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MEMOIRS 

OF 

THE  COURT 

OF 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


BY  LUCY  AIKIN. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED  BY  ABRAHAM  SMALL, 

1823." 


\  4  10  a* 


In  the  literature  of  our  country,  however  copious,  the  eye 
of  the  curious  student  may  still  detect  important  deficiencies. 

We  possess,  for  example,  many  and  excellent  histories,  em- 
bracing every  period  of  our  domestic  annals ; — biographies,  ge- 
neral and  particular,  which  appear  to  have  placed  on  record  the 
name  of  every  private  individual  justly  entitled  to  such  comme- 
moration : — and  numerous  and  extensive  collections  of  original 
letters,  state-papers  and  other  historical  and  antiquarian  docu- 
ments;— whilst  our  comparative  penury  is  remarkable  in  royal 
lives,  in  court  histories,  and  especially  in  that  class  which  forms 
the  glory  of  French  literature, — memoir. 

To  supply  in  some  degree  this  want,  at  it  affects  the  person 
and  reign  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious  of  female  paid  of  Eu- 
ropean sovereigns,  is  the  intention  of  the  work  now  offered  with 
much  diffidence  to  the  public. 

Its  plan  comprehends  a  detailed  view  of  the  private  life  of 
Elizabeth  from  the  period  of  her  birth  ;  a  view  of  the  domestic 
history  of  her  reign  ;  memoirs  of  the  principal  families  of  the 
nobility  and  biographical  anecdotes  of  the  celebrated  characters 
who  composed  her  court ;  besides  notices  of  the  manners,  opi- 
nions and  literature  of  the  reign. 

Such  persons  as  may  have  made  it  their  business  or  their  en- 
tertainment to  study  very  much  in  detail  the  history  of  the 
age  of  Elizabeth,  will  doubtless  be  aware  that  in  the  voluminous 
collections  of  Strype,  in  the  edited  Burleigh,  Sidney,  and  Talbot 
papers,  in  the  Memoirs  of  Birch,  in  various  collections  of  letters, 
in  the  chronicles  of  the  times, — so  valuable  for  those  vivid  pic- 
tures of  manners  which  the  pen  of  a  contemporary  unconsciously 


815220 


iv 


PREFACE. 


traces, — in  the  Annals  of  Camden,  the  Progresses  of  Nichols, 
and  other  large  and  labourious  works  which  it  would  be  tedious 
here  to  enumerate,  a  vast  repertory  existed  of  curious  and  inte- 
resting facts  seldom  recurred  to  for  the  composition  of  books  of 
lighter  literature,  and  possessing  with  respect  to  a  great  majo- 
rity of  readers  the  grace  of  novelty.  Of  these  and  similar  works 
of  reference,  as  well  as  of  a  variety  of  others,  treating  directly 
or  indirectly  on  the  biography,  the  literature,  and  the  manners 
of  the  period,  a  large  collection  has  been  placed  under  the  eyes 
of  the  author,  partly  by  the  liberality  of  her  publishers,  partly 
by  the  kindness  of  friends. 

In  availing  herself  of  their  contents,  she  has  had  to  encounter 
in  full  force  the  difficulties  attendant  on  such  a  task  ;  those  of 
weighing  and  comparing  authorities,  of  reconciling  discordant 
statements,  of  bringing  insulated  facts  to  bear  upon  each  other, 
and  of  forming  out  of  materials  irregular  in  their  nature  and 
abundant  almost  to  excess,  a  compact  and  well  proportioned 
structure. 

How  far  her  abilities  and  her  diligence  may  have  proved  them- 
selves adequate  to  the  undertaking,  it  remains  with  a  candid 
public  to  decide.  Respecting  the  selection  of  topics  it  seems 
necessary  however  to  remark,  that  it  has  been  the  constant  en  - 
deavour of  the  writer  to  preserve  to  her  work  the  genuine  cha- 
racter of  Memoirs,  by  avoiding  as  much  as  possible  all  encroach- 
ments on  the  peculiar  province  of  history  ; — that  amusement,  of 
a  not  illiberal  kind,  has  been  consulted  at  least  equally  with  in- 
struction ; — and  that  on  subjects  of  graver  moment,  a  correct 
sketch  has  alone  been  attempted. 

By  a  still  more  extensive  course  of  reading  and  research,  an 
additional  store  of  anecdotes  and  observations  might  unquestion- 
ably have  been  amassed ;  but  it  his  hoped  that  of  those  assem- 
bled in  the  following  pages,  few  will  be  found  to  rest  on  dubious 
or  inadequate  authority ;  and  that  a  copious  choice  of  materials, 
relatively  to  the  intended  compass  of  the  work,  will  appear  to 
have  superseded  the  temptation  to  useless  digression,  or  to  pro- 
lix and  trivial  detail. 

The  orthography  of  all  extracts  from  the  elder  writers  has 
been  modernised,  and  their  punctuation  rendered  more  distinct; 
in  other  respects  reliance  may  be  placed  on  their  entire  fidelity. 


SHBUKDUIBS 

OF 

THE  COURT  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

1533  to  1536. 

BIRTH  of  Elizabeth. — Circumstances  attending  the  marriage  of 
her  parents. — Public  entry  of  Anne  Boleyn  into  London.—* 
Pageants  exhibited. — Baptism  of  Elizabeth. — Eminent  persons 
present. — Proposal  of  marriage  between  Elizabeth  and  a 
French  Prince. — Progress  of  the  reformation. — Henry  perse- 
cutes both  parties. — Death  of  Catherine  of  Arragon. — Disgrace 
of  Anne  Boleyn. — Her  death. — Confesses  an  obstacle  to  her 
marriage. — Particulars  on  this  subject. — Elizabeth  declared 
illegitimate. — Letter  of  Lady  Bryan  respecting  her. — The  king 
marries  Jane  Seymour. 

ON  the  7th  of  September  1533,  at  the  royal  palace  of  Green- 
wich in  Kent,  was  born,  under  circumstances  as  peculiar  as  her 
after-life  proved  eventful  and  illustrious,  Elizabeth  daughter  of 
king  Henry  VIII.  and  his  queen  Anne  Boleyn. 

Delays  and  difficulties  equally  grievous  to  the  impetuous 
temper  of  the  man  and  the  despotic  habits  of  the  prince,  had  for 
years  obstructed  Henry  in  the  execution  of  his  favourite  pro- 
ject of  repudiating,  on  the  plea  of  their  too  near  alliance,  a  wife 
who  had  ceased  to  find  favor  in  his  sight,  and  substituting  on  her 
throne  the  youthful  beauty  who  had  captivated  his  imagination . 
At  length  his  passion  and  his  impatience  had  arrived  at  a  pitch 
capable  of  bearing  down  every  obstacle.  With  that  contempt 
of  decorum  which  he  displayed  so  remarkably  in  some  former, 
and  many  later  transactions  of  his  life,  he  caused  his  private 
marriage  with  Anne  Boleyn  to  precede  the  sentence  of  divorce 
which  he  had  resolved  that  his  clergy  should  pronounce  against 
Catherine  of  Arragon  ;  and  no  sooner  had  this  judicial  ceremony 
taken  place,  than  the  new  queen  was  openly  exhibited  as  such 
in  the  face  of  the  court  and  the  nation. 

An  unusual  ostentation  of  magnificence  appears  to  have  at- 
tended the  celebration  of  these  august  nuptials.   The  fondness 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  the  king  for  pomp  and  pageantry  was  at  all  times  excessive, 
and  on  this  occasion  his  love  and  his  pride  would  equally  con- 
spire to  prompt  an  extraordinary  display.  Anne,  too,  a  vain, 
ambitious,  and  light-minded  woman,  was  probably  greedy  of 
this  kind  of  homage  from  her  princely  lover ;  and  the  very  con- 
sciousness of  the  dubious,  inauspicious,  or  disgraceful  circum- 
stances attending  their  union,  might  secretly  augment  the  anx- 
iety of  the  royal  pair  to  dazzle  and  impose  by  the  magnificence 
of  their  public  appearance.  Only  once  before,  since  the  Norman 
conquest,  had  a  king  of  England  stooped  from  his  dignity  to 
elevate  a  private  gentlewoman  and  a  subject  to  a  partnership  of 
his  bed  and  throne;  and  the  bitter  animosities  between  the 
queen's  relations  on  one  side,  and  the  princes  of  the  blood  and 
q;reat  nobles  on  the  other,  which  had  agitated  the  reign  of  Ed- 
ward IV.,  and  contributed  to  bring  destruction  on  the  heads  of 
.his  helpless  orphans,  stood  as  a  strong  warning  against  a  repe 
tition  of  the  experiment. 

The  unblemished  reputation  and  amiable  character  of  Henry's 
v<  some-time  wife/'  had  long  procured  for  her  the  love  and  respect 
of  the  people  ;  her  late  misfortunes  had  engaged  their  sympathy, 
and  it  might  be  feared  that  several  unfavourable  points  01  com- 
parison would  suggest  themselves  between  the  high-born  and 
high-minded  Catherine  and  her  present  rival — once  her  humble 
attendant — whose  long-known  favour  with  the  king,  whose 
open  association  with  him  at  Calais,  whither  she  had  attended 
him,  whose  private  marriage  of  uncertain  date,  and  already  ad- 
vanced pregnancy,  afforded  so  much  ground  for  whispered 
censures 

On  the  other  hand,  the  personal  qualities  of  the  king  gave 
him  great  power  over  popular  opinion.  The  manly  beauty  of 
his  countenance,  the  strength  and  agility  which  in  the  chival- 
rous exercises  of  the  time  rendered  him  victorious  over  all  com- 
petitors ;  the  splendour  with  which  he  surrounded  himself ;  his 
bounty ;  the  popular  frankness  of  his  manners,  all  conspired 
to  render  him,  at  this  period  of  his  life,  an  object  of  admiration 
rather  than  of  dread  to  his  subjects  ;  while  the  respect  enter- 
tained for  his  talents  and  learning,  and  for  the  conscientious 
scruples  respecting  his  first  marriage  which  he  felt  or  feigned, 
mingled  so  much  of  deference  in  their  feelings  towards  him., 
as  to  check  all  hasty  censures  of  his  conduct.  The  protestant 
party,  now  considerable  by  zeal  and  numbers,  foresaw  too  many 
happy  results  to  their  cause  from  the  circumstances  of  his  pre- 
sent union,  to  scrutinise  with  severity  the  motives  which  had 
produced  it.  The  nation  at  large,  justly  dreading  a  disputed 
succession,  with  all  its  long-experienced  evils,  in  the  event  of 
Henry's  leaving  behind  him  no  offspring  but  a  daughter  whom 
he  had  lately  set  aside  on  the  ground  of  illegitimacy,  rejoiced  in 
the  prospect  of  a  male  heir  to  the  crown.  The  populace  of  Lonr 
don,  captivated,  as  usual,  by  the  splendours  of  a  coronation,  were 
also  delighted  with  the  youth,  beauty  and  affability  of  the  new 
queen. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


3 


The  solemn  entry  therefore  of  Anne  into  the  city  of  London 
was  greeted  by  the  applause  of  the  multitude  ;  and  it  was  pro- 
bably the  genuine  voice  of  public  feeling,  which,  in  Balu ting  her 
queen  of  England,  wished  her,  how  much  in  vain !  a  long  and 
prosperous  life. 

The  pageants  displayed  in  the  streets  of  London  on  this  joy- 
ful occasion,  are  described  with  much  minuteness  bv  our  chro- 
niclers, and  afford  ample  indications  that  the  barbarism  of  taste 
which  permitted  an  incongruous  mixture  of  classical  mythology 
with  scriptural  allusions,  was  at  its  height  in  the  learned  reign 
of  our  eighth  Henry.  Helicon  and  Mount  Parnassus  appeared 
on  one  side;  St.  Anne,  and  Mary  the  wife  ofCIeophas  with  her 
children,  were  represented  on  the  other.  Here  the  three  Graces 
presented  the  queen  with  a  golden  apple  by  the  hands  of  their 
orator  Mercury ;  there  the  four  cardinal  Virtues  promised,  in 
set  speeches,  that  they  would  always  be  aiding  and  comforting 
to  her. 

On  the  Sunday  after  her  public  entry,  a  day  not  at  this  period 
regarded  as  improper  for  the  performance  of  such  a  ceremonial, 
Henry  caused  his  queen  to  be  crowned  at  Westminster  with 
great  solemnity  ;  an  honour  which  he  never  thought  proper  to 
confer  on  any  of  her  successors. 

In  the  sex  of  the  child  born  to  them  a  few  months  afterwards, 
the  hopes  of  the  royal  pair  must  doubtless  have  sustained  a  se- 
vere disappointment :  but  of  this  sentiment  nothing  was  suf- 
fered to  appear  in  the  treatment  of  the  infant,  whom  her  father 
was  anxious  to  mark  out  as  his  only  legitimate  offspring  and  un 
doubted  heir  to  the  crown. 

She  was  destined  to  bear  the  auspicious  name  of  Elizabeth,  in 
memory  of  her  grandmother,  that  heiress  of  the  house  of  York, 
whose  marriage  with  the  earl  of  Richmond,  then  Henry  VII., 
had  united  the  roses,  and  given  lasting  peace  to  a  country  so 
long  rent  by  civil  discord.  The  unfortunate  Mary,  now  in  her 
sixteenth  year,  was  stripped  of  the  title  of  princess  of  Wales, 
which  she  had  borne  from  her  childhood,  that  it  might  adorn  a 
younger  sister ;  one  too  whose  birth,  her  interest,  her  religion, 
and  her  filial  affection  for  an  injured  mother,  alike  taught  her 
to  regard  as  base  and  infamous. 

A  public  and  princely  christening  served  still  further  to  at- 
test the  importance  attached  to  this  new  member  of  the  royal 
family. 

By  the  king's  special  command,  Cranmer  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury stood  godfather  to  the  princess;  and  Shakespeare,  by  a 
fiction  equally  poetical  and  courtly,  has  represented  him  as 
breaking  forth  on  this  memorable  occasion  into  an  animated  va- 
ticination of  the  glories  of  the  "  maiden  reign."  Happy  was  it 
for  the  peace  of  mind  of  the  noble  personages  there  assembled, 
that  no  prophet  was  empowered  at  the  same  time  to  declare  how 
few  of  them  should  live  to  share  its  splendours  ;  how  awfully- 
large  a  proportion  of  their  numbers  should  fall,  or  behold  their 
nearest  connexions  falling,  untimely  victims  of  the  jealous  tyranny 


4 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  Henry  himself,  or  of  the  convulsions  and  persecutions  of 
the  two  troubled  reigns  destined  to  intervene  before  those  hal- 
cyon days  which  they  were  taught  to  anticipate  ! 

For  the  purpose  of  illustrating  the  truth  of  this  remark,  and 
at  the  same  time  of  introducing  to  the  reader  the  most  distin- 
guished personages  o£  Henry's  court,  several  of  whom  will  af- 
terwards be  found  exerting  different  degrees  of  influence  on 
the  character  or  fortunes  of  the  illustrious  subject  of  this  work, 
it  may  be  worth  while  to  enumerate  in  regular  order  the  per- 
formers in  this  august  ceremonial.  The  circumstantial  Holin- 
shed,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  their  names  and  offices,  will 
at  the  same  time  furnish  some  of  those  minute  particulars  which 
serve  to  bring  the  whole  pompous  scene  before  the  eye  of  fancy. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  the  lordmayor  and  corporation  of 
London,  who  had  been  summoned  to  attend,  took  boat  for 
Greenwich,  where  they  found  many  lords,  knights,  and  gentle- 
men assembled,  The  whole  way  from  the  palace  to  the  friery, 
was  strown  with  green  rushes,  and  the  walls  were  hung  with 
tapestry,  as  was  the  Friers'  church  in  which  the  ceremony  was 
performed. 

A  silver  font  with  a  crimson  canopy  was  placed  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  church ;  and  the  child  being  brought  into  the  hall,  the 
long  procession  set  forward.  It  began  with  citizens  walking 
two-and-two,  and  ended  with  barons,  bishops,  and  earls.  Then 
came,  bearing  the  gilt  basins,  Henry  earl  of  Essex,  the  last  of 
the  ancient  name  of  Bourchier  who  bore  the  title.  He  was  a 
splendid  nobleman,  distinguished  in  the  martial  games  and  gor- 
geous pageantries  which  then  amused  the  court:  he  also  boasted 
of  a  royal  lineage,  being  sprung  from  Thomas  of  Woodstock, 
youngest  son  of  Edward  III. ;  and  perhaps  he  was  apprehensive 
lest  this  distinction  might  hereafter  become  as  fatal  to  himself 
as  it  had  lately  proved  to  the  unfortunate  duke  of  Buckingham. 
But  he  perished  a  few  years  after  by  a  fall  from  his  horse  ;  and 
leaving  no  male  issue,  the  king,  to  the  disgust  of  this  great  fa- 
mily, conferred  the  title  on  the  low-bred  Cromwel,  then  his  fa- 
vourite minister. 

The  salt  was  borne  by  Henry  marquis  of  Dorset,  the  unfortu- 
nate father  of  lady  Jane  Grey  ;  who,  after  receiving  the  royal 
pardon  for  his  share  in  the  criminal  plot  for  setting  the  crown 
on  the  head  of  his  daughter,  again  took  up  arms  in  the  rebellion 
of  Wyat,  and  was  brought  to  expiate  this  treason  on  the  scaffold. 

William  Courtney  marquis  of  Exeter  followed  with  the  taper 
of  virgin  wax  ;  a  nobleman  who  had  the  misfortune  to  be  very 
nearly  allied  to  the  English  throne  ;  his  mother  being  a  daugh- 
ter of  Edward  IV.  He  was  at  this  time  in  high  favour  with  the 
king  his  cousin,  who,  after  setting  aside  his  daughter  Mary,  had 
even  declared  him  heirapparent,  to  the  prejudice  of  his  own 
sisters  :  but  three  years  after  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  jealousy  of 
the  king,  on  a  charge  of  corresponding  with  his  proscribed  kins- 
man cardinal  Pole  :  his  honours  and  estates  were  forfeited ; 
*  and  his  son,  though  still  a  child,  was,  detained  in  close  custody. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


5 


The  chrism  was  borne  by  lady  Mary  Howard,  the  beautiful 
laughter  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk  ;  who  lived  not  only  to  behold, 
but,  by  the  evidence  which  she  gave  on  his  trial,  to  assist  in  the 
most  unmerited  condemnation  of  her  brother,  the  gallant  and 
accomplished  earl  of  Surry.  The  king,  by  a  trait  of  royal  arro- 
gance, selected  this  lady,  descended  from  our  Saxon  monarchs 
and  allied  to  all  the  first  nobility,  for  the  wife  of  his  base-born 
son  created  duke  of  Richmond  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
spirit  of  the  Howards  was  high  enough  in  this  reign  to  feel  the 
insult  as  it  deserves. 

The  royal  infant,  wrapped  in  a  mantle  of  purple  relvet,  hav- 
ing a  long  train  furred  with  ermine,  was  carried  by  one  of  her 
god-mothers,  the  dowager-duchess  of  Norfolk.  Anne  Boleyn 
was  this  lady's  step-grand -daughter  :  but  in  this  alliance  with 
royalty  she  had  little  cause  to  exult ;  still  less  in  the  closer  one 
which  was  afterwards  formed  for  her  by  the  elevation  of  her  own 
grand-daughter  Catherine  Howard.  On  discovery  of  the  ill  con- 
duct of  this  queen,  the  aged  duchess  was  overwhelmed  with  dis- 
grace :  she  was  even  declared  guilty  of  misprision  of  treason, 
and  committed  to  custody,  but  was  released  by  the  king  after  the 
blood  of  Catherine  and  her  paramours  had  quenched  his  fury. 

The  dowager-marchioness  of  Dorset  was  the  other  god  -mother 
at  the  font : — of  the  four  sons  of  this  lady,  three  perished  on  the 
scaffold  ;  her  grand-daughter  lady  Jane  Grey  shared  the  same 
fate  ;  and  the  surviving  son  died  a  prisoner  during  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  for  the  offence  of  distributing  a  pamphlet  asserting  the 
title  of  the  Suffolk  line  to  the  crown. 

The  marchioness  of  Exeter  was  the  godmother  at  the  confir- 
mation, who  had  not  only  the  affliction  to  see  her  husband 
brought  to  an  untimely  end,  and  her  only  son  wasting  his  youth 
in  captivity,  but,  being  herself  attainted  of  high  treason  some 
time  afterwards,  underwent  a  long  and  arbitrary  imprisonment. 

On  either  hand  of  the  duchess  of  Norfolk,  walked  the  dukes 
of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  the  only  nobles  of  that  rank  then  exist- 
ing in  England. 

Their  names  occur  in  conjunction  on  every  public  occasion, 
and  in  almost  every  important  transaction,  civil  and  military,  of 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  but  the  termination  of  their  respective 
careers  was  strongly  contrasted.  The  duke  of  Suffolk  had  the 
extraordinary  good  fortune  never  to  lose  that  favour  with  his 
master  which  he  had  gained  as  Charles  Brandon,  the  partner  of 
his  youthful  pleasures.  What  was  a  still  more  extraordinary 
instance  of  felicity,  his  marriage  with  the  king's  sister  brought 
to  him  neither  misfortunes  nor  perils,  and  he  did  not  live  to  wit- 
ness those  which  overtook  his  grand -daughters.  He  died  in 
peace,  lamented  by  a  sovereign  who  knew  his  worth. 

The  duke  of  Norfolk,  on  the  contrary,  was  powerful  enough 
by  birth  and  connections  to  impress  Henry  with  fears  for  the 
tranquillity  of  his  son's  reign.  The  memory  of  former  services 
was  sacrificed  to  present  alarm.  Almost  with  his  last  breath  he 
ordered  his  old  and  faithful  servant  to  the  scaffold ;  but  even 


6 


THE  COURT  OF 


Henry  was  no  longer  absolute  on  his  death-bed.  For  once  he 
was  disobeyed,  and  Norfolk  survived  him ;  but  the  long  years  of 
his  succeeding  captivity  were  poorly  compensated  by  a  brief  and 
tardy  restoration  to  liberty  and  honours  under  Mary. 

One  of  the  child's  train-bearers  was  the  countess  of  Kent. 
This  was  probably  the  widow  of  the  second  earl  of  that  title  and 
of  the  name  of  Grey:  she  must  therefore  have  been  the  daughter 
of  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  a  zealous  Yorkist  who  was  slain  fight- 
ing in  the  cause  of  Edward  IV.  Henry  VIII.  was  doubtless 
aware  that  his  best  hereditary  title  to  the  crown  was  derived 
from  his  mother,  and  during  his  reign  the  Yorkist  families  en- 
joyed at  least  an  equal  share  of  favour  with  the  Lancastrians, 
whom  his  father  had  almost  exclusively  countenanced. 

Thomas  Boleyn,  earl  of  Wiltshire,  the  proud  and  happy 
grandfather  of  the  princely  infant,  supported  the  train  on  one 
side.  It  is  not  true  that  he  afterwards,  in  his  capacity  of  a  privy 
counsellor,  pronounced  sentence  of  death  on  his  own  son  and 
daughter ;  even  Henry  was  not  inhuman  enough  to  exact  this 
of  him;  but  he  lived  to  witness  their  cruel  and  disgraceful  end, 
and  died  long  before  the  prosperous  days  of  his  illustrious 
grand-child. 

On  the  other  side  the  train  was  borne  by  Edward  Stanley 
third  earl  of  Derby.  This  young  nobleman  had  been  a  ward  of 
Wolsey,  and  was  carefully  educated  by  that  splendid  patron  of 
learning  in  his  house  and  under  his  own  eye.  He  proved  him- 
self a  faithful  and  loyal  subject  to  four  successive  sovereigns  ; 
stood  unshaken  by  the  tempests  of  the  most  turbulent  times ; 
and  died  full  of  days  in  the  possession  of  great  riches,  high  he- 
reditary honours,  and  universal  esteem,  in  1574. 

A  splendid  canopy  was  supported  over  the  infant  by  four 
lords,  three  of  them  destined  to  disastrous  fates.  One  was  her 
uncle,  the  elegant,  accomplished,  viscount  Rochford,  whom  the 
impartial  suffrage  of  posterity  has  fully  acquitted  of  the  odious 
crime  for  which  he  suffered  by  the  mandate  of  a  jealous  tyrant. 

Another  was  lord  Hussey  ;  whom  a  rash  rebellion  brought  to 
the  scaffold  a  few  years  afterwards.  The  two  others  were  bro- 
thers of  that  illustrious  family  of  Howard,  which  furnished  in 
this  age  alone  more  subjects  for  tragedy  than  "  Thebes  or  Pe- 
lops'  line"  of  old.  Lord  William,  uncle  to  Catherine  Howard, 
was  arbitrarily  adjudged  to  perpetual  imprisonment  and  forfei- 
ture of  goods  for  concealing  her  misconduct ;  but  Henry  was 
pleased  soon  after  to  remit  the  sentence ;  he  lived  to  be  eminent 
in  the  state  under  the  title  of  lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  and 
died  peacefully  in  a  good  old  age.  Lord  Thomas  suffered  by  the 
ambition  so  frequent  in  his  house,  of  matching  with  the  blood 
royal.  He  formed  a  secret  marriage  with  the  lady  Margaret 
Douglas,  niece  to  the  king ;  on  discovery  of  which,  he  was  com- 
mitted to  a  close  imprisonment,  whence  he  was  only  released  by 
death. 

After  the  ceremony  of  baptism  had  been  performed  by  Stokesly 
bishop  of  London,  a  solemn  benediction  was  pronounced  upon 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


7 


the  future  queen  by  Cranmer,  that  learned  and  distinguished 
prelate,  who  may  indeed  be  reproached  with  some  too  courtly 
condescensions  to  the  will  of  an  imperious  master,  and  what  is 
worse,  with  several  cruel  acts  of  religious  persecution;  but. 
whose  virtues  were  many,  whose  general  character  was  mild 
and  benevolent,  and  whose  errors  and  weaknesses  were  finally 
expiated  by  the  flames  of  martyrdom. 

In  the  return  from  church,  the  gifts  of  the  sponsors,  consisting 
of  cups  and  bowls,  some  gilded,  and  others  of  massy  gold,  were 
carried  by  four  persons  of  quality  ;  Henry  Somerset  second 
earl  of  Worcester,  whose  father,  notwithstanding  his  illegiti- 
macy, had  been  acknowledged  as  a  kinsman  by  Henry  VII.,  and 
advanced  to  the  peerage  ;  lord  Thomas  Howard  the  younger,  a 
son  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  who  was  restored  in  blood  after  his 
father's  attainder,  and  created  lord  Howard  of  Bindon ;  Thomas 
Ratcliffe  lord  Fitzwalter,  afterwards  earl  of  Sussex ;  and  sir 
John  Dudley,  son  of  the  detested  associate  of  Empson,  and  after- 
wards the  notorious  duke  of  Northumberland,  whose  crimes  re- 
ceived at  length  their  due  recompense  in  that  ignominious  death 
to  which  his  guilty  and  extravagant  projects  had  conducted  so 
many  comparatively  innocent  victims. 

We  are  told,  that  on  the  same  day  and  hour  which  gave  birth 
to  the  princess  Elizabeth,  a  son  was  born  to  this  "  bold  bad 
man,"  who  received  the  name  of  Robert,  and  was  known  in  af- 
ter-times as  earl  of  Leicester.  It  w  as  believed  by  the  supersti- 
tion of  the  age,  that  this  coincidence  of  their  nativities  produced 
a  secret  and  invincible  sympathy  which  secured  to  Dudley,  dur- 
ing life,  the  affections  of  his  sovereign  lady.  It  may  without 
superstition  be  admitted,  that  this  circumstance,  seizing  on  the 
romantic  imagination  of  the  princess,  might  produce  a  first  im- 
pression, which  Leicester's  personal  advantages,  his  insinuating 
manners,  and  consummate  art  of  feigning,  all  contributed  to 
render  deep  and  permanent. 

The  personal  history  of  Elizabeth  may  truly  be  said  to  begin 
with  her  birth  ;  for  she  had  scarcely  entered  her  second  year, 
when  her  marriage — that  never  accomplished  project,  which  for 
half  a  century  afterwards  inspired  so  many  vain  hopes  and  was 
the  subject  of  so  many  fruitless  negotiations,  was  already  pro- 
posed as  an  article  of  a  treaty  between  France  and  England. 

Henry  had  caused  an  act  of  succession  to  be  passed,  by  which 
his  divorce  was  confirmed,  the  authority  of  the  pope  disclaimed, 
and  the  crown  settled  on  his  issue  by  Anne  Boleyn.  But,  as  if 
half-repenting  the  boldness  of  his  measures,  he  opened  a  negoti- 
ation almost  immediately  with  Francis  I.,  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining a  declaration  by  that  king  and  his  nobility  in  favour  of 
his  present  marriage,  and  the  intercession  of  Francis  for  the  revo- 
cation of  the  papal  censures  fulminated  against  him.  And  in 
consideration  of  these  acts  of  friendship,  he  offered  to  engage 
the  hand  of  Elizabeth  to  the  duke  d'Angouleme,  third  son  of  the 
French  king.  But  Francis  was  unable  to  prevail  upon  the  new 
pope  to  annul  the  acts  of  his  predecessor  ;  and  probably  not 


8 


THE  COURT  OP 


wishing  to  connect  himself  more  closely  with  a  prince  already 
regarded  as  a  heretic,  he  suffered  the  proposal  of  marriage  to  fall 
to  the  ground. 

The  doctrines  of  Zwingle  and  of  Luther  had  at  this  time  made 
considerable  progress  among  Henry's  subjects,  and  the  great 
work  of  reformation  was  begun  in  England.  Several  smaller 
monasteries  had  been  suppressed ;  the  pope's  supremacy  was 
preached  against  by  public  authority  ;  and  the  parliament,  de- 
sirous of  widening  the  breach  between  the  king  and  the  pontiff, 
declared  the  former,  head  of  the  English  church.  After  some 
hesitation,  Henry  accepted  the  office,  and  wrote  a  book  in  de- 
fence of  his  conduct.  The  queen  was  attached,  possibly  by 
principle,  and  certainly  by  interest,  to  the  antipapal  party, 
which  alone  admitted  the  validity  of  the  royal  divorce,  and  con- 
sequently of  her  marriage  ;  and  she  had  already  engaged  her 
chaplain  Dr.  Parker,  a  learned  and  zealous  reformist,  to  keep 
a  watchful  eye  over  the  childhood  of  her  daughter,  and  early  to 
imbue  her  mind  with  the  true  principles  of  religious  knowledge. 

But  Henry,  whose  passions  and  interests  alone,  not  his  theo 
logical  convictions,  had  set  him  in  opposition  to  the  old  church 
establishment,  to  the  ceremonies  and  doctrines  of  which  he  was 
even  zealously  attached,  begun  to  be  apprehensive  that  the 
whole  fabric  would  be  swept  away  by  the  strong  tide  of  popular 
opinion  which  was  now  turned  against  it,  and  he  hastened  to 
interpose  in  its  defence.  He  brought  to  the  stake  several  per- 
sons who  denied  the  real  presence,  as  a  terror  to  the  reformers  ; 
whilst  at  the  same  time  he  showed  his  resolution  to  quell  the 
adherents  of  popery,  by  causing  bishop  Fisher  and  sir  Thomas 
More  to  be  attainted  of  treason,  for  refusing  such  part  of  the 
oath  of  succession  as  implied  the  invalidity  of  the  king's  first 
marriage,  and  thus,  in  effect,  disallowed  the  authority  of  the 
papal  dispensation  in  virtue  of  which  it  had  been  celebrated. 

Thus  were  opened  those  dismal  scenes  of  religious  persecu- 
tion and  political  cruelty  from  which  the  mind  of  Elizabeth  was 
to  receive  its  early  and  indelible  impressions. 

The  year  1536,  which  proved  even  more  fertile  than  its  pre- 
decessor in  melancholy  incidents  and  tragical  catastrophes, 
opened  with  the  death  of  Catherine  of  Arragon  ;  an  event  equal- 
ly welcome,  in  all  probability,  both  to  the  sufferer  herself,  whom 
tedious  years  of  trouble  and  mortification  must  have  rendered 
weary  of  a  world  which  had  no  longer  a  hope  to  flatter  her ;  and 
to  the  ungenerous  woman  who  still  beheld  her,  discarded  as  she 
was,  with  the  sentiments  of  an  enemy  and  a  rival.  It  is  im- 
possible to  contemplate  the  life  and  character  of  this  royal  lady, 
without  feelings  of  the  deepest  commiseration.  As  a  wife,  the  bit- 
ter humiliations  which  she  was  doomed  to  undergo  were  entirely 
unmerited;  for  not  only  was  her  modesty  unquestioned,  but  her 
whole  conduct  towards  the  king  was  a  perfect  model  of  conjugal 
love  and  duty.  As  a  queen  and  a  mother,  her  firmness,  her 
dignity,  and  her  tenderness,  deserved  a  far  other  recompense 
than  to  see  herself  degraded,  on  the  infamous  plea  of  incest,  from 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


9 


the  rank  of  royalty,  and  her  daughter,  so  long  heiress  to  the  En- 
glish throne,  barnded  with  illegitimacy,  and  cast  out  alike  from 
tne  inheritance  and  the  affections  of  her  father.  But  the  me- 
mory of  this  unhappy  princess  has  been  embalmed  by  the  genius 
of  Shakespeare,  in  the  noble  drama  of  which  he  has  made  her  the 
touching  and  majestic  heroine  ;  and  let  not  the  praise  of  magna- 
nimity be  denied  to  the  daughter  of  Anne  Boleyn,  in  permitting 
those  wrongs  and  those  sufferings  which  were  the  price  of  her 
glory,  nay  of  her  very  existence,  to  be  thus  impressively  offered 
to  the  compassion  of  her  people. 

Henry  was  moved  to  tears  on  reading  the  tender  and  pious 
letter  addressed  to  him  by  the  dying  hand  of  Catherine  ;  and  he 
marked  by  several  small  but  expressive  acts,  the  respect,  or  ra- 
ther the  compunction,  with  which  the  recollection  of  her  could 
not  fail  to  inspire  him.  Anne  Boleyn  paid  to  the  memory  of 
the  princess-dowager  of  Wales — such  was  the  title  now  given  to 
Catherine — the  unmeaning  compliment  of  putting  on  yellow 
mourning;  the  colour  assigned  to  queens  by  the  fashion  of  France; 
but  neither  humanity  nor  discretion  restrained  her  from  open 
demonstrations  of  the  satisfaction  afforded  her  by  the  melan- 
choly event. 

Short  was  her  unfeeling  triumph.  She  brought  into  the  world 
a  few  days  afterwards,  a  dead  son  ;  and  this  second  disappoint- 
ment of  his  hopes  completed  that  disgust  to  his  queen  which 
satiety,  and  perhaps  also  a  growing  passion  for  another  object, 
was  already  beginning  to  produce  in  the  mind  of  the  king. 

It  is  traditionally  related,  that  at  Jane  Seymour's  first  com 
ing  to  court,  the  queen,  espying  a  jewel  hung  round  her  neck, 
wished  to  look  at  it ;  and  struck  with  the  young  lady's  reluct- 
ance to  submit  it  to  her  inspection,  snatched  it  from  her  with 
violence,  when  she  found  it  to  contain  the  king's  picture,  pre- 
sented by  himself  to  the  wearer.  From  this  day  she  dated  her 
own  decline  in  the  affections  of  her  husband,  and  the  ascendancy 
of  her  rival  However  this  might  be,  it  is  certain  that  the  king 
about  this  time  began  to  regard  the  conduct  of  his  once  idolized 
Anne  Boleyn  with  an  altered  eye.  That  easy  gaiety  of  man- 
ner which  he  had  once  remarked  with  delight,  as  an  indication 
of  the  innocence  of  her  heart  and  the  artlessness  of  her  dispo- 
sition, was  now  beheld  by  him  as  a  culpable  levity  which  offend- 
ed his  pride  and  alarmed  his  jealousy.  His  impetuous  temper, 
with  which  "once  to  suspect  was  once  to  be  resolved,"  disdain- 
ed to  investigate  proofs  or  to  fathom  motives  ;  a  pretext  alone 
was  wanting  to  his  rising  fury,  and  this  he  was  not  long  in 
finding. 

On  May-day,  then  observed  at  court  as  a  high  festival,  solemn 
justs  were  held  at  Greenwich,  before  the  king  and  queen,  in 
which  viscount  Rochford,  the  queen's  brother,  was  chief  chal- 
lenger, and  Henry  Norris  principal  defender.  In  the  midst  of 
the  entertainment,  the  king  suddenly  rose  and  quitted  the  place 
in  anger  ;  but  on  what  particular  provocation  is  not  certainly 
known.    Saunders  the  Jesuit,  the  great  calumniator  of  Anne 


10 


THE  COURT  OF 


Boleyn,  says  that  it  was  on  seeing  his  consort  drop  her  handker- 
chief, which  Norris  picked  up  and  wiped  his  face  with.  The 
queen  immediately  retired,  and  the  next  day  was  committed  to 
custody.  Her  earnest  entreaties  to  be  permitted  to  see  the  king 
were  disregarded,  and  she  was  sent  to  the  Tower  on  a  charge 
of  treason  and  adultery. 

Lord  Rochford,  Norris,  one  Smeton  a  musician,  and  Brereton 
and  another  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber,  were  likewise  appre- 
hended, and  brought  to  trial  on  the  accusation  of  criminal  inter- 
course with  the  queen.    They  were  all  convicted  ;  but  from  the 
few  particulars  which  have  come  down  to  us,  it  seems  to  be  just- 
ly inferred,  that  the  evidence  produced  against  some  at  least  of 
these  unhappy  gentlemen,  was  slight  and  inconclusive.  Lord 
Rochford  is  universally  believed  to  have  fallen  a  victim  to  the 
atrocious  perj  uries  of  his  wife,  who  was  very  improperly  admit- 
ted as  a  witness  against  him,  and  whose  infamous  conduct  was 
afterwards  fully  brought  to  light.    No  absolute  criminality  ap- 
pears to  have  been  proved  against  Weston  and  Brereton  ;  but 
Smeton  confessed  the  fact.    Norris  died  much  more  generously ; 
he  protested  that  he  would  rather  perish  a  thousand  times  than 
accuse  an  innocent  person;  that  he  believed  the  queen  to  be 
perfectly  guiltless ;  he,  at  least,  could  accuse  her  of  nothing ; 
and  in  this  declaration  he  persisted  to  the  last.  His  expressions, 
if  truly  reported,  seem  to  imply  that  he  might  have  saved  himself 
by  criminating  the  queen  :  but  besides  the  extreme  improbabi- 
lity that  the  king  would  have  shown  or  promissed  any  mercy  to 
such  a  delinquent,  we  know  in  fact  that  the  confession  of  Sme- 
ton did  hot  obtain  for  him  even  a  reprieve :  it  is  therefore  ab- 
surd to  represent'  Norris  as  having  died  in  vindication  of  the 
honour  of  the  queen  ;  and  the  favour  afterwards  shown  to  his  son 
by  Elizabeth,  had  probably  little  connexion  with  any  tenderness 
for  the  memory  of  her  mother,  a  sentiment  which  she  certainly 
exhibited  in  no  other  circumstance. 

The  trial  and  condemnation  of  the  queen  followed.  The  pro- 
cess was  conducted  with  that  open  disregard  of  the  first  princi- 
ples of  justice  and  equity  then  universal  in  all  cases  of  high 
treason  :  no  counsel  were  assigned  her,  no  witnesses  confronted 
with  her,  and  it  does  not  appear  that  she  was  even  informed  of 
Smeton's  confession :  but  whether,  after  all,  she  died  innocent, 
is  a  problem  which  there  now  exist  no  means  of  solving,  and 
which  it  is  somewhat  foreign  from  the  purpose  of  this  work  to 
discuss. 

One  part  of  this  subject,  however,  on  account  of  the  intimate  re- 
lation which  it  bears  to  the  history  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  influ- 
ence which  it  may  be  presumed  to  have  exercised  in  the  ioima- 
tion  of  her  character,  must  be  treated  somewhat  at  large. 

The  common  law  of  England,  by  an  anomaly  truly  barbarous, 
denounced,  against  females  only,  who  should  be  found  guilty  of 
high  treason,  the  punishment  of  burning.  By  menaces  of  putting 
into  execut.jn  this  horrible  sentence;  instead  of  commuting  it 
for  decapitation,  Anne  Boleyn  was  induced  to  acknowledge  some 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


i 1 


legal  impediment  to  her  marriage  with  the  king;  and  on  this 
confession  alone,  Cranmer,  with  his  usua)  subservancy,  gratified 
his  royal  master  by  pronouncing  that  union  null  and  void,  and 
its  offspring  illegitimate. 

What  this  impediment,  real  or  preten4ed,  might  be,  we  only 
learn  from  a  public  declaration  made  immediately  afterwards  by 
the  earl  of  Northumberland,  stating,  that  whereas  it  had  been 
pretended,  that  a  precontract  had  subsisted  between  himself  and 
the  late  queen,  he  has  declared  upon  oath  before  the  lords  of  the 
council,  and  taken  the  sacrament  upon  it,  that  no  such  contract 
had  ever  passed  between  them.  In  explanation  of  this  protest,  the 
noble  historian  of  Henry  VIII,*  furnishes  us  with  the  following 
particulars.  That  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  when  lord  Percy, 
had  made  proposals  of  "marriage  to  Anne  Boleyn;  which  she  had 
accepted,  being  yet  a  stranger  to  the  passion  of  the  king;  that 
Henry,  unable  to  bear  the  idea  of  losing  her,  but  averse  as  yet 
to  a  declaration  of  his  sentiments,  employed  Wolsey  to  dis- 
suade the  father  of  lord  Percy  from  giving  his  consent  to  their 
union  in  which  he  succeeded  ;  the  earl  of  Northumberland  proba- 
bly becoming  aware  how  deeply  the  personal  feelings  of  the  king 
were  concerned  :  that  lord  Percy,  however,  refused  to  give  up 
the  lady,  alleging  in  the  first  instance  that  he  had  gone  too  far  to 
recede  with  honour  ;  but  was  afterwards  compelled  by  his  father 
to  form  another  matrimonial  connexion.  It  should  appear  by 
this  statement,  that  some  engagement  had  in  fact  subsisted'  be- 
tween Northumberland  and  Anne:  but  there  is  no  necessity  for 
supposing  it  to  have  been  a  contract  of  that  solemn  nature  which, 
according  to  the  law  as  it  then  stood,  would  have  rendered  null 
the  subsequent  marriage  of  either  party.  The  protestation  of 
the  earl  was  confirmed  by  the  most  solemn  sanctions ;  which 
there  is  no  ground  for  supposing  him  capable  of  violating,  espe- 
cially as  on  this  occasion,  so  far  from  gaining  any  advantage  by 
it,  he  was  likely  to  give  high  offence  to  the  king.  If  then,  as 
appears  most  probable,  the  confession  by  which  Anne  Boleyn 
disinherited  and  illegitimatised  her  daughter  was  false  ;  a  per- 
jury so  wicked  and  cowardly  must  brand  tier  memory  with  ever- 
lasting infamy  : — even  should  the  contrary  have  been  the  fact, 
the  transaction  does  her  little  honour  :  in  either  case  it  affords 
ample  justification  to  that  daughter  in  leaving,  as  she  did  her 
remains  without  a  monument  and  her  conduct  without  an 
apology. 

The  precarious  and  equivocal  condition  to  which  the  little 
Elizabeth  was  reduced  by  the  divorce  and  death  of  her  mother, 
will  be  best  illustrated  by  the  following  extracts  of  a  letter  ad- 
dressed soon  after  the  event,  by  lady  Bryan  her  governess,  to 
lord  Cromwel.  It  may  at  the  same  time  amuse  the  modern  rea- 
der to  remark  the  minute  details  on  which,  in  that  day,  the  first 
minister  of  state  was  expected  to  bestow  his  personal  attention. 


*  Lord  Herbert  ofCliirbury. 


1% 


THE  COURT  OF 


******  My  lord,  when  your  lordship  was  last  here,  it  pleased 
you  to  say,  that  I  should  not  mistrust  the  king's  grace,  nor  your 
lordship.  Which  word  was  more  comfort  to  me  than  I  can 
write,  as  God  knoweth.  And  now  it  boldeneth  me  to  show  you 
my  poor  mind.  My  lord,  when  my  lady  Mary's  grace  was  born, 
it  pleased  the  king's  grace  to  [appoint]  me  lady  mistress,  and 
made  me  a  baroness.  And  so  I  have  been  to  the  children  his 
grace  have  had  since. 

f  Now,  so  it  is,  my  lady  Elizabeth  is  put  from  that  degree  she 
was  afore  ;  and  what  degree  she  is  at  now,  I  know  not  but  by 
hearsay.  Therefore  I  know  not  how  to  order  her,  nor  myself, 
nor  none  of  hers  that  I  have  the  rule  of ;  that  is,  her  women  and 
her  grooms.  Beseeching  you  to  be  good  lord  to  my  lady  and  to 
all  hers  ;  and  that  she  may  have  some  rayment.  For  she  hath 
neither  gown,  nor  kirtle,  nor  petticoat,  nor  no  manner  of  linen, 
nor  foresmocks,  nor  kerchiefs,  nor  sleeves,  nor  rails,  nor  body 
stitchets,  nor  mufflers,  nor  biggins.  All  these,  her  grace's 
mostake*,  I  have  driven  off  as  long  as  I  can,  that,  by  my  troth, 
I  cannot  drive  it  no  lenger.  Beseeching  you,  my  lord,  that  you 
will  see  that  her  grace  may  have  that  is  needful  for  her,  as  my 
trust  is  ye  will  do — that  I  may  know  from  you  by  writing  how 
I  shall  order  myself:  and  what  is  the  king's  grace's  pleasure 
and  yours,  that  I  shall  do  in  every  thing. 

"  My  lord,  Mr.  Shelton  saith  he  is  the  master  of  this  house  : 
what  fashion  that  shall  be,  I  cannot  tell ;  for  I  have  not  seen  it 
before. — I  trust  your  lordship  will  see  the  house  honourably  or- 
dered, howsomever  it  hath  been  ordered  aforetime. 

"My  lord,  Mr.  Shelton  would  have  my  lady  Elizabeth  to 
dine  and  sup  every  day  at  the  board  of  estate.  Alas  !  my  lord, 
it  is  not  meet  for  a  child  of  her  age  to  keep  such  rule  yet.  I 
I  promise  you,  my  lord,  I  dare  not  take  it  upon  me  to  keep  her 
in  health  and  she  keep  that  rule.  For  there  she  shall  see  divers 
meats  and  fruits,  and  wine :  which  v/ould  be  hard  for  me  to  re- 
strain her  grace  from  it.  Ye  know,  my  lord,  there  is  no  place 
of  correction  there.  And  she  is  yet  too  young  to  correct  greatly. 
I  know  well,  and  she  be  there,  I  shall  nother  bring  her  up  to  the 
king's  grace's  honour,  nor  hers ;  nor  to  her  health,  nor  my  poor 
honesty.  Wherefore  I  show  your  lordship  this  my  desire.  Be- 
seeching you,  my  lord,  that  my  lady  may  have  a  mess  of  meat 
to  her  own  lodging,  with  a  good  dish  or  two,  that  is  meet  for  her 
grace  to  eat  of. 

"  God  knoweth  my  lady  hath  great  pain  with  her  great  teeth, 
and  they  come  very  slowly  forth :  and  causeth  me  to  suffer  her 
grace  to  have  her  will,  more  than  I  would.  I  trust  to  God  and 
her  teeth  were  well  graft,  to  have  her  grace  after  another  fashion 
than  she  is  yet :  so  as  I  trust  the  king's  grace  shall  have  great 
comfort  in  her  grace.  For  she  is  as  toward  a  child,  and  as  gen- 
tle of  conditions,  as  ever  1  knew  any  in  my  life.    Jesu  preserve 

*  This  is  a  word  which  I  am  utterly  unable  to  explain  ;  but  it  is  thus  printed  in 
Strype's  **  Memorials,"  whence  the  letter  is  copied. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


13 


her  grace  !  As  for  a  clay  or  two  at  a  hey  time,  or  whensomevcr 
it  shall  please  the  king's  grace  to  have  her  set  abroad,  I  trust  so 
to  endeavour  me,  that  she  shall  so  do,  as  shall  be  to  the  king's 
honour  and  hers  ;  and  then  after  to  take  her  ease  again. 

"  Good  my  lord,  have  my  lady's  grace,  and  us  that  be  her  poor 
servants  in  your  remembrance. 

"From  Hunsdon."    (No  date  of  time.) 

On  the  day  immediately  following  the  death  of  the  unfortunate 
Anne  Boleyn,  the  king  was  publicly  united  in  marriage  to  Jane 
Seymour;  and  an  act  of  parliament  soon  after  passed  by  which 
the  lady  Elizabeth  was  declared  incapable  of  succeeding  to  the 
crown,  which  was  now  settled  on  the  offspring  of  Henry  by  his 
present  Queen. 


CHAPTER  II. 

1536  to  1542. 

Vague  notion  of  hereditary  succession  to  the  English  throne. — 
Henry'' s  jealousy  of  the  royal  family. — Imprisonment  of  lord 
T.  Howard  and  lady  M.  Douglas. — After -fortunes  of  this  lady. 
— Princess  Mary  reconciled  with  her  father. — Dissolution  of 
monastaries proceeds. — Insurrections  in  Lincolnshire  and  York- 
shire,— Remarkable  trait  of  the  power  of  the  nobles. — Rebellion 
of  T.  Fitzgerald. — Romantic  adventures  of  Gerald  Fitzgerald. 
— Birth  of  prince  Edward. — Death  of  the  queen. — Rise  of  the 
two  Seymours. — Henry's  views  in  their  advancement. — His  en- 
mily  to  cardinal  Pole. — Causes  of  it. — Geffrey  Pole  discloses  a 
plot. — Trial  and  death  of  lord  Montacute,  the  marquis  of  Exe- 
ter, sir  Edward  Nevil,  and  sir  N.  Carew. — Particulars  of  these 
persons. — Attainder  of  the  marchioness  of  Exeter  and  countess 
of  Salisbury. — Application  of  these  circumstances  to  the  history 
of  Elizabeth. — Decline  of  the  protestant  party. — Its  causes. — 
Cromwel  proposes  the  king's  marriage  with  Anne  of  Cleves. — 
Accomplishments  of  this  lady — Royal  marriage. — Cromwel 
made  earl  of  Essex. — Anger  of  the  Bourchier  family. — Justs 
at  Westminster. — The  king  determines  to  dissolve  his  mar- 
riage.— Permits  the  fall  of  Cromwel. — Is  divorced. — Behaviour 
of  the  queen. — Marriage  of  the  king  to  Catherine  Howard. — 
Ascendency  of  the  Papists. — Execution  of  the  countess  of  Salis- 
bury— of  lord  Leonard  Grey. — Discovery  of  the  queen's  ill 
conduct. — Attainders  passed  against  her  and  several  others. 

NOTHING  could  be  more  opposite  to  the  strict  principle* 
of  hereditary  succession  than  the  ideas  entertained,  even  by  the 
first  lawyers  of  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.,  concerning  the  manner 


14 


THE  COURT  OF 


in  which  a  title  to  the  crown  was  to  be  established  and 
recognised. 

N  When  Rich,  the  king's  solicitor,  was  sent  by  his  master  to 
argue  with  sir  Thomas  More  on  the  lawfulness  of  acknowledging 
the  royal  supremacy  ;  he  inquired  in  the  course  of  his  argument, 
whether  sir  Thomas  "Would  not  own  for  king  any  person  what- 
ever,^—himself  for  example, — who  should  have  been  declared  so 
by  parliament  ?  He  answered,  that  he  would.  Rich  then  de- 
manded, why  he  refused  to  acknowledge  a  head  of  the  church  so 
appointed  ?  "  Because,"  replied  More,  "  a  parliament  can  make 
a  king  and  depose  him,  and  that  eyery  parliament-man  may  give 
his  consent  thereunto,  but  a  subject  cannot  be  bound  so  in  case 
of  supremacy."*  Bold  as  such  doctrine  respecting  the  power 
of  parliaments  would  now  be  thought,  it  could  not  well  be  con- 
troverted at  a  time  when  examples  were  still  recent  of  kings  of 
the  line  of  York  or  Lancaster  alternately  elevated  or  degraded 
by  a  vote  of  the  two  houses,  and  when  the  father  of  the  reigning 
sovereign  had  occupied  the  throne  in  virtue  of  such  a  nomination 
more  than  by  right  of  birth. 

But  the  obvious  inconveniences  and  dangers  attending  the 
exercise  of  this  power  of  choice,  had  induced  the  parliaments  of 
Henry  VIII.  to  join  with  him  in  various  acts  for  the  regulation  of 
the  succession.  It  was  probably  with  the  concurrence  of  this 
body,  that  in  1552  he  had  declared  his  cousin,  the  marquis  of 
Exeter,  heir  to  the  crown ;  yet  this  very  act,  by  which  the  king 
excluded  not  only  his  daughter  Mary,  but  his  two  sisters  and 
their  children,  every  one  of  whom  had  a  prior  right  according  to 
the  rules  at  present  received,  must  have  caused  the  sovereignty 
to  be  regarded  rather  as  elective  in  the  royal  family  than  properly 
hereditary — a  fatal  idea,  which  converted  every  member  of  that 
family  possessed  of  wealth,  talents,  or  popularity,  into  a  formi- 
dable rival,  if  not  to  the  sovereign  on  the  throne,  at  least  to  his 
next  heir,  if  a  woman  or  a  minor,  and  which  may  be  regarded  as 
the  immediate  occasion  of  those  cruel  proscriptions  which  stained 
with  kindred  blood  the  closing  years  of  the  reign  of  Henry,  and 
have  stamped  upon  him  to  all  posterity  the  odious  character  of  a 
tyrant. 

The  first  sufferer  by  the  suspicions  of  the  king  was  lord  Tho- 
mas Howard,  half-brother  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  who  was  at- 
tainted of  high  treason  in  the  parliament  of  1536,  for  having 
secretly  entered  into  a  contract  of  marriage  with  lady  Margaret 
Douglas,  the  king's  niece,  through  which  alliance  he  was  accused 
of  aiming  at  the  crown.  For  this  offence  he  was  confined  in 
the  rower  till  his  death;  but  on  what' evidence  or  traitorous 
designs,  or  by  what  law,  except  the  arbitrary  mandate  of  the 
monarch  confirmed  by  a  subservient  parliament,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  say.  That  his  marriage  was  forbidden  by  no  law, 
is  evident  from  the  passing  of  an  act  immediately  afterwards, 
making  it  penal  to  marry  any  female  standing  in  the  first  de- 

*  See  Herbert's  Henry  VIII. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


15 


gree  «> t  relationship  to  the  king,  without  his  knowledge  and  con- 
sent. 

The  lady  Margaret  was  daughter  to  Henry's  eldest  sister, 
the  qneen-dowager  of  Scotland,  by  her  second  htisband  the  earl 
6f  Aliens.  She  was  born  in  England,  whither  her  mother  had 
been  compelled  to  fly  for  refuge  by  the  turbulent  state  of  her 
son's  kingdom,  and  the  ill  success  of  her  own  and  her  husband's 
struggles  tor  the  acquisition  of  political  power.  In  the  English 
court  the  lady  Margaret  had  likewise  been  educated,  and  had 
formed  connexions  of  friendship  ;  whilst  her  brother  James  V. ' 
laboured  under  the  antipathy  with  which  the  English  then  re- 
garded those  northern  neighbours,  with  whom  they  were  involved 
in  almost  perpetual  hostilities.  It  might  easily  therefore  have 
happened,  in  case  of  the  king's  death  without  male  heirs,  that  in 
spite  of  the  power  recently  bestowed  on  him  by  parliament  of 
disposing  of  the  crown  by  will,  which  it  is  very  uncertain  how 
he  would  have  employed,  a  connexion  with  the  potent  house  of 
Howard  might  have  given  the  title  of  lady  Margaret  a  prefer- 
ence over  that  of  any  other  competitor.  Henry  was  struck  with 
this  danger,  however  distant  and  contingent :  he  caused  his 
niece,  as  well  as  her  spouse,  to  be  imprisoned ;  and  though  he 
restored  her  to  Hberty  in  a  few  months,  and  the  death  of  How- 
ard, not  long  afterwards,  set  her  free  from  this  ill-starred  en- 
gagement, she  ventured  not  to  form  another,  till  the  king  him- 
self, at  the  end  of  several  years,  gave  her  in  marriage  to  the  earl 
of  Lenox ;  by  whom  she  became  the  mother  of  lord  Darnley, 
and  through  him  the  progenitrix  of  a  line  of  princes  destined  to 
unite  another  crown  to  the  ancient  inheritance  of  the  Planta- 
genets  and  the  Tudors. 

The  princess  Mary,  after  the  removal  of  Anne  Boleyn,  who 
had  exercised  towards  her  the  utmost  insolence  and  harshness, 
ventured  upon  some  overtures  towards  a  reconciliation  with  her 
father ;  but  he  would  accept  them  on  no  other  conditions  than  her 
adopting  his  religious  creed,  acknowledging  his  supremacy,  de- 
nying the  authority  of  the  pope,  and  confessing  the  unlawfulness 
of  her  mother's  marriage.  It  was  long  before  motives  of  expe* 
diency,  and  the  persuasion  of  friends,  could  wring  from  Mary  a 
reluctant  assent  to  these  cruel  articles:  her  compliance  was  re- 
warded by  the  return  of  her  father's  affection,  but  not  imme- 
diately by  her  re-instatement  in  the  order  of  succession.  She 
saw  the  child  of  Anne  Boleyn  still  a  distinguished  object  of  the 
king's  paternal  tenderness ;  the  new  queen  was  likely  to  give 
another  heir  to  the  crown;  and  whatever  hopes  she,  with  the 
catholic  party  in  general,  had  founded  on  the  disgrace  of  his 
late  spouse,  became  frustrated  by  succeeding  events. 

The  death  of  Catherine  of  Arragon  seemed  to  have  removed 
the  principal  obstacles  to  an  agreement  between  the  king  and 
the  pope;  and  the  holy  father  now  deigned  to  make  some  ad- 
vances towards  a  son  whom  he  hoped  to  find  disposed  to  peni- 
tence :  but  they  were  absolutely  rejected  by  Henry,  who  had  ceased 
to  dread  his  spiritual  thunders.    The  parliament  and  the  convo- 


16 


THE  COURT  OF 


cation  showed  themselves  prepared  to  adopt,  without  hesitation, 
the  numerous  changes  suggested  by  the  king  in  the  ancient  ritual ; 
and  Cromwel,  with  influence  not  apparently  diminished  by  the 
fall  of  the  late  patroness  of  the  protestant  party,  presided  in  the 
latter  assembly  with  the  title  of  vicegerent,  and  with  powers 
unlimited. 

The  suppression  of  monasteries  was  now  carried  on  with  in- 
creasing rigour,  and  thousands  of  their  unfortunate  inhabitants 
were  mercilessly  turned  out  to  beg  or  starve.  These,  dispersing 
themselves  over  the  country,  in  which  their  former  hospitalities 
had  rendered  them  generally  popular,  worked  strongly  on  the 
passions  of  the  many,  already  discontented  at  the  imposition  of 
new  taxes,  which  served  to  convince  them  that  the  king  and  his 
courtiers  would  bathe  only  gainers  by  the  plunder  of  the  church; 
and  formidable  insurrections  were  in  some  counties  the  result. 
In  Lincolnshire  the  commotions  were  speedily  suppressed  by 
the  interposition  of  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  and  other  loyal  no- 
blemen ;  but  it  was  necessary  to  send  into  Yorkshire  a  conside- 
rable army  under  the  duke  of  Norfolk.  Through  the  dexterous 
management  of  this  leader,  who  was  judged  to  favour  the  cause 
of  the  revolters  as  much  as  his  duty  to  his  sovereign  and  a  regard 
to  his  own  safety  would  permit,  little  blood  was  shed  in  the  field ; 
but  much  flowed  afterwards  on  the  scaffold,  where  the  lords 
Darcy  and  Hussey,  sir  Thomas  Percy,  brother  to  the  earl  of 
Northumberland,  and  several  private  gentlemen,  suffered  as 
traitors. 

The  suppression  of  these  risings  strengthened,  as  usual,  the 
hands  of  government,  but  at  the  expense  of  converting  into  an 
object  of  dread,  a  monarch  who  in  the  earlier  and  brighter  period 
of  his  reign  had  been  regarded  with  sentiments  of  admiration 
and  love. 

In  lord  Herbert's  narrative  of  this  insurrection,  we  meet  with 
a  passage  too  remarkable  to  be  omitted.  "  But  the  king,  who 
was  informed  from  divers  parts,  but  chiefly  from  Yorkshire,  that 
the  people  began  there  also  to  take  arms,  and  knowing  of  what 
great  consequence  it  might  be  if  the  great  persons  in  those  parts, 
though  the  rumour  were  false,  should  be  said  to  join  with  him, 
had  commanded  George  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  Thomas  Manners 
earl  of  Rutland,  and  George  Hastings  earl  of  Huntingdon,  to 
make  a  proclamation  to  the  Lincolnshire-men,  summoning  and 
commanding  them  on  their  allegiance  and  peril  of  their  lives  to 
return  ;  which,  as  it  much  disheartened  them,  so  many  stole 
away,5'  &c. 

In  this  potency  of  the  hereditary  aristocracy  of  the  country, 
and  comparative  feebleness,  on  some  occasions  at  least,  of  the 
authority  of  the  most  despotic  sovereign  whom  England  had  yet 
seen  on  the  throne,  we  discern  at  once  the  excuse  which  Henry 
would  make  to  himself  for  his  severities  against  the  nobility, 
and  the  motive  of  that  extreme  popularity  of  manners  by  which 
Elizabeth  aimed  at  attaching  to  herself  the  affections  of  the  mid- 
dling and  lower  orders  of  her  subject & 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


17 


Soon  alter  these  events,  Henry  confirmed  the  new  impres- 
sions which  his  subjects  had  received  of  his  character,  by  an  act 
of  extraordinary,  but  not  unprovoked  severity,  which  involved 
in  destruction  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  powerful  houses 
among  the  peerage  of  Ireland,  that  of  Fitzgerald  earl  of  Kjldare. 
The  nobleman  who  now  bore  this  title  had  married  for  his  se- 
cond wife  lady  Elizabeth  Grey,  daughter  of  the  first  marquis  of 
Dorset,  and  first-cousin  to  the  king  by  his  mother ;  he  had  been 
favoured  at  court,  and  was  at  this  time  lord  deputy  of  Ireland. 
But  the  country  being  in  a  very  disturbed  state,  and  the  deputy 
accused  of  many  acts  of  violence,  he  had  obeyed  with  great  reluct- 
ance a  summons  to  answer  for  his  conduct  before  the  king  in 
council,  leaving  his  eldest  son  to  exercise  his  office  during  his 
absence.  On  his  arrival,  he  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  and 
nis  son,  alarmed  by  the  false  report  of  his  having  lost  his  head, 
broke  out  immediately  into  a  furious  rebellion.  After  a  tempo- 
rary success,  Thomas  Fitzgerald  was  reduced  to  great  difficul- 
ties :  at  the  same  time  a  promise  of  pardon  was  held  out  to  him  ; 
and  confiding  in  it  he  surrendered  himself  to  lord  Leonard  Grey, 
brother  to  the  countess  his  step-mother.  His  five  uncles,  also 
implicated  in  the  guilt  of  rebellion,  were  seized  by  surprise,  or 
deceived  into  submission.  The  whole  six  were  then  conveyed 
to  England  in  the  same  ship ;  and  all,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties 
and  remonstrances  of  lord  Leonard  Grey,  who  considered  his 
own  honour  as  pledged  for  the  safety  of  their  lives,  were  hanged 
at  Tyburn. 

The  aged  earl  had  died  in  the  Tower  on  receiving  news  of 
his  son's  rash  enterprise  ;  and  a  posthumous  attainder  being  is- 
sued against  him,  his  lands  and  goods  were  forfeited.  The  king 
however,  in  pity  to  the  widow,  and  as  a  slight  atonement  for  so 
cruel  an  injustice,  permitted  one  of  her  daughters  to  retain  some 
poor  remains  of  the  family  plate  and  valuables  ;  and  another  of 
them,  coming  to  England,  appears  to  have  received  her  educa- 
tion at  Hunsdon  palace  with  the  princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeths 
her  relations.  Here  she  was  seen  by  Henry  earl  of  Surry,  whose 
chaste  and  elegant  muse  has  handed  her  down  to  posterity  as 
the  lovely  Geraldine,  the  object  of  his  fervent  but  fruitless  devo- 
tion. She  was  married  first  to  sir  Anthony  Brown,  and  after- 
wards became  the  wife  of  the  earl  of  Lincoln,  surviving  by  many 
years  her  noble  and  unfortunate  admirer. 

The  countess  of  Kildare,  and  the  younger  of  her  two  sons, 
likewise  remained  in  England  obscure  and  unmolested  ;  but  the 
merciless  rancour  of  Henry  against  the  house  of  Hitzgerald  still 
pursued  its  destitute  and  unoffending  heir,  who  was  struggling 
through  a  series  of  adventures  the  most  perilous  and  the  most 
romantic. 

This  boy,  named  Gerald,  then  about  twelve  years  old,  had 
been  left  by  his  father  at  a  house  in  Kildare,  under  the  care  and 
tuition  of  Leverous  a  priest  who  was  his  foster-brother.  The 
child  was  lying  ill  of  the  small-pox,  when  the  news  arrived  that 
his  brother  and  uncles  had  been  sent  prisoners  to  England  :  but 


18 


THE  COURT  OF 


his  affectionate  guardian,  justly  apprehensive  of  greater  danger 
to  his  young  charge,  wrapped  him  up  as  carefully  as  he  could, 
and  conveyed  him  away  with  all  speed  to  the  house  of  one  of 
his  sisters,  where  he  remained  till  he  was  quite  recovered. 
Thence  his  tutor  removed  him  successively  into  the  territories 
of  two  or  three  different  Irish  chieftains,  who  sheltered  him  for 
about  three-quarters  of  a  year,  after  which  he  carried  him  to  his 
aunt  the  lady  Elenor,  at  that  time  widow  of  a  chief  named  Mac- 
carty  Reagh. 

This  lady  had  long  been  sought  in  marriage  by  O'Donnel 
lord  of  Tyrconnel,  to  whose  suit  she  had  been  unpropitious : 
but  wrought  upon  by  the  hope  of  being  able  to  afford  effectual 
protection  to  her  unfortunate  nephew,  she  now  consented  to  an 
immediate  union  ;  and  taking  Gerald  along  with  her  to  her  new 
home  in  the  county  of  Donegal,  she  there  hospitably  entertained 
him  for  about  a  year.  But  the  jealous  spirit  of  the  implacable  king 
seemed  to  know  no  rest  while  this  devoted  youth  still  breathed 
the  air  of  liberty,  and  he  caused  a  great  reward  to  be  offered  for 
h  5  apprehension,  which  the  base-minded  O'Donnel  immediately 
sought  to  appropriate  by  delivering  him  up.  Fortunately  the 
lady  Elenor  discovered  his  intentions  in  time,  and  instantly 
causing  her  nephew  to  disguise  his  person,  and  storing  him,  like 
a  bountiful  aunt,  with  "  sevenscore  portugueses,"  she  put  him 
under  the  charge  of  Leverous  and  an  old  servant  of  his  father's, 
an  1  shipped  him  on  board  a  vessel  bound  for  St.  Malo's. 

Having  thus  secured  his  escape,  she  loftily  expostulated  with 
her  husband  on  his  villainy  in  plotting  to  betray  her  kinsman, 
whom  she  had  stipulated  that  he  should  protect  to  the  utmost  of 
his  power ;  and  she  bid  him  know,  that  as  the  danger  of  the 
youth  had  alone  induced  her  to  form  any  connection  with  him, 
so  the  assurance  of  his  safety  should  cause  her  to  sequester  her- 
self for  ever  from  the  society  of  so  base  and  mercenary  a  wretch: 
and  hereupon,  collecting  all  that  belonged  to  her,  she  quitted 
O'Donnel  and  returned  to  her  own  country. 

Gerald,  in  the  mean  time,  arrived  without  accident  in  Bre- 
tagne,  and  was  favourably  received  by  the  governor  of  that  pro- 
vince, when  the  king  of  France,  being  informed  of  his  situation, 
gave  him  a  place  about  the  dauphin.  Sir  John  Wallop,  however, 
the  English  embassador,  soon  demanded  him,  in  virtue  of  a  treaty 
between  the  two  countries  for  the  delivering  up  of  offenders  and 
proscribed  persons  ;  and  while  the  king  demurred  to  the  requisi- 
tion, Gerald  consulted  his  safety  by  making  a  speedy  retreat  into 
Flanders.  Thither  his  steps  were  dogged  by  an  Irish  servant  of 
the  embassador's ;  but  the  governor  of  Valenciennes  protected 
him  by  imprisoning  this  man,  till  the  youth  himself  generously 
begged  his  release;  and  he  reached  the  emperor's  court  at  Brus- 
sels, without  further  molestation.  But  here  also  the  English 
embassador  demanded  him ;  the  emperor  however  excused  him- 
self from  giving  up  a  fugitive  whose  youth  sufficiently  attested 
his  innocence,  and  sent  him  privately  to  the  bishop  of  Liege,  with 
a  pension  of  a  hundred  crowns  a  month.    The  bishop  entertain- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


19 


<m!  him  very  honourably,  placing  him  in  a  monastery,  and  watch- 
ing carefully  over  the  safety  of  his  person,  till,  at  the  end  of  half 
u  year,  his  mother's  kinsman,  cardinal  Pole,  sent  for  him  into 
Italy. 

Before  he  would  admit  the  young  Irishman  to  his  presence, 
the  cardinal  required  him  to  learn  Italian;  and  allowing  him  an 
annuity,  placed  him  first  with  the  bishop  of  Verona,  then  with  a 
cardinal,  and  afterwards  with  the  duke  of  Mantua.  At  the  end 
of  a  year  and  a  half  he  invited  him  to  Rome,  and  soon  becoming 
attached  to  him,  took  him  into  his  house,  and  for  three  years  had 
him  instructed  under  his  own  eye  in  all  the  accomplishments  of  a 
finished  gentleman.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  when  Gerald  had 
nearly  attained  the  age  of  nineteen,  his  generous  patron  gave 
him  the  choice  either  of  pursuing  his  studies  or  of  travelling  to 
seek  his  adventures.  The  youth  preferred  the  latter ;  and  re- 
pairing to  Naples,  he  fell  in  with  some  knights  of  Rhodes,  whom 
he  accompanied  to  Malta,  and  thence  to  Tripoli,  a  place  at  that 
time  possessed  by  the  order,  whence  they  carried  on  fierce  war 
against  the  "  Turks  and  miscreants,"  spoiling  and  sacking  their 
villages  and  towns,  and  taking  many  prisoners  whom  they  sold 
to  the  Christians  for  slaves.  In  these  proceedings,  the  young 
adventurer  took  a  strenuous  and  valiant  part  much  to  his  profit; 
for  in  less  than  a  year  he  returned  to  Rome  laden  with  a  rich 
booty.  "  Proud  was  the  cardinal  to  hear  of  his  prosperous  ex- 
jploits,"  and  increased  his  pension  to  three  hundred  pounds  a  year. 
Shortly  after,  he  entered  into  the  service  of  Cosmo  duke  of  Flo- 
rence, and  remained  three  years  his  master  of  the  horse. 

The  tidings  of  Henry's  death  at  length  put  an  end  to  his  exile, 
and  he  hastened  to  London  in  the  company  of  some  foreign  em- 
bassadors, and  still  attended  by  his  faithful  guardian  Leverous. 
Appearing  at  king  Edward's  court  in  a  mask,  or  ball,  he  had  the 
good  fortune  to  make  a  deep  impression  on  the  heart  of  a  young 
lady,  daughter  to  sir  Anthony  Brownj  whom  he  married ;  and 
through  the  intercession  of  her  friends  was  restored  to  a  part  of 
his  inheritance  by  the  young  monarch,  who  also  knighted  hima 
In  the  next  reign,  the  interest  of  cardinal  Pole  procured  his  rein- 
statement in  all  the  titles  and  honours  of  his  ancestors.  He  was 
a  faithful  and  affectionate  subject  to  queen  Elizabeth,  in  whose 
reign  he  turned  protestant ;  was  by  her  greatly  favoured,  and 
finally  died  in  peace  in  1585.* 

That  ill -directed  restlessness  which  formed  so  striking  a  fea- 
ture in  the  character  of  Henry  VIII.  had  already  prompted  him 
to  interfere,  as  we  have  seen,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  with 
the  order  of  succession ;  and  the  dangerous  consequences  of 
these  capricious  acts  with  respect  to  the  several  branches  of  the 
royal  family  have  already  been  observed.  To  the  people  at 
large  also,  his  instability  on  so  momentous  a  point  was  harassing 
and  alarming,  and  they  became  as  much  at  a  loss  to  conjecture 

*  See  Chron.  of  Ire  land  in  Ho!i  ishid,  pass.  Coliius's  Peerage,  by  sir  E.  Bridges, 
article  Viscount  Lsinster. 


20 


THE  COURT  OF 


what  successor,  as  what  religion,  he  would  at  last  bequeath 
them. 

Under  such  circumstances,  great  indeed  must  have  been  the 
joy  in  the  court  and  in  the  nation  on  the  occurrence  of  an  event 
calculated  to  end  all  doubts  and  remove  all  difficulties — the  birth 
of  a  prince  of  Wales. 

This  auspicious  infant  seemed  to  strangle  in  his  cradle  the 
serpents  of  civil  discord.  Every  lip  hastened  to  proffer  him  its 
homage ;  every  heart  united,  or  seemed  at  least  to  unite,  in  the 
general  burst  of  thankfulness  and  congratulation. 

The  zealous  papists  formed  the  party  most  to  be  suspected  of 
insincerity  in  their  professions  of  satisfaction  ;  but  the  princess 
Mary  set  them  an  excellent  example  of  graceful  submission  to 
what  was  inevitable,  by  soliciting  the  office  of  godmother.  Her 
sister  was  happily  too  young  to  be  infected  with  court-jealousies, 
or  to  behold  in  a  brother  an  unwelcome  intruder,  who  came  to 
snatch  from  her  the  inheritance  of  a  crown ;  between  Elizabeth 
and  Edward  an  attachment  truly  fraternal  sprung  up  with  the 
first  dawnings  of  reason ;  and  notwithstanding  the  fatal  blow 
given  to  her  interests  by  the  act  of  settlement  extorted  from  his 
dying  hand,  this  princess  never  ceased  to  cherish  his  memory, 
and  to  mention  him  in  terms  of  affectionate  regret. 

The  conjugal  felicities  of  Henry  were  destined  to  be  of  short 
duration,  and  before  he  could  receive  the  felicitations  of  his  sub- 
jects on  the  birth  of  his  son,  the  mother  was  snatched  away  by 
death.  The  queen  died  deeply  regretted,  not  only  by  her  hus- 
band, but  by  the  whole  court,  whom  she  had  attached  by  the  un- 
common sweetness  of  her  disposition.  To  the  princess  Mary 
her  behaviour  had  been  the  reverse  of  that  by  which  her  prede- 
cessor had  disgraced  herself ;  and  the  little  Elizabeth  had  receiv- 
ed from  her  marks  of  a  maternal  tenderness.  Jane  Seymour 
was  accounted  a  favourer  of  the  protestant  cause ;  but  as  she 
was  apparently  free  from  the  ambition  of  interfering  in  state 
affairs,  her  death  had  no  further  political  influence  than  what 
resulted  from  the  king's  marriage  thus  becoming  once  more  an 
object  of  speculation  and  court  intrigue.  It  did  not  even  give 
a  check  to  the  advancement  of  her  two  brothers,  destined  to  act 
and  to  suffer  so  conspicuously  in  the  fierce  contentions  of  the 
ensuing  minority ;  for  the  king  seemed  to  regard  it  as  a  point  of 
policy  to  elevate  those  maternal  relations  of  his  son,  on  whose 
care  he  relied  to  watch  over  the  safety  of  his  person  in  case  of 
his  own  demise,  to  a  dignity  and  importance  which  the  proudest 
nobles  of  the  land  might  view  with  respect  or  fear.  Sir  Edward 
Seymour,  who  had  been  created  lord  Beauchamp  the  year  before, 
was  now  made  earl  of  Hertford;  and  high  places  at  court  and 
commands  in  the  army  attested  the  favour  of  his  royal  brother- 
in-law.  Thomas  Seymour,  afterwards  lord  high-admiral,  attain- 
ed during  this  reign  no  higher  dignity  than  that  of  knighthood  ; 
but  considerable  pecuniary  grants  were  bestowed  upon  him;  and 
whilst  he  saw  his  wealth  increase,  he  was  secretly  extending  his 
influence,  and  feeding  his  aspiring  spirit  with  fond  anticipations 
of  future  greatness. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


21 


AH  now  seemed  tranquil :  but  a  discerning  eye  might  already 
have  beheld  fresh  tempests  gathering  in  the  changeful  atmosphere 
of  the  English  court.  The  jealousies  of  the  king,  become  too 
habitual  to  be  discarded,  had  in  fact  only  received  a  new  direc- 
tion from  the  birth  of  his  son :  his  mind  was  perpetually  haunt- 
ed with  the  dread  of  leaving  him,  a  defenceless  minor,  in  the 
hands  of  contending  parties  in  religion,  and  of  a  formidable  and 
factious  nobility ;  and  for  the  sake  of  obviating  the  distant  and 
contingent  evils  which  he  apprehended  from  this  source,  he  show- 
ed himself  ready  to  pour  forth  whole  rivers  of  the  best  blood  of 
England. 

The  person  beyond  all  comparison  most  dreaded  and  detest- 
ed by  Henry  at  this  juncture,  was  his  cousin  Reginald  Pole,  for 
whom  when  a  youth  he  had  conceived  a  warm  affection,  whose 
studies  he  had  encouraged  by  the  gift  of  a  deanery  and  the  hope 
of  further  church -preferment,  and  of  whose  ingratitude  he  always 
believed  himself  entitled  to  complain.  It  was  the  long-con- 
tested point  of  the  lawfulness  of  Henry's  marriage  with  his  bro- 
ther's widow,  which  set  the  kinsmen  at  variance.  Pole  had 
from  the  first  refused  to  concur  with  the  university  of  Paris,  in 
which  he  was  then  residing,  in  its  condemnation  of  this  union  : 
afterwards,  alarmed  probably  at  the  king's  importunities  on  the 
subject,  he  had  obtained  the  permission  then  necessary  for  leav- 
ing England,  to  which  he  had  returned,  and  travelled  into  Italy. 
Here  he  formed  friendships  with  the  most  eminent  defenders  of 
the  papal  authority,  now  incensed  to  the  highest  degree  against 
Henry,  on  account  of  his  having  declared  himself  head  of  the 
English  church ;  and  both  his  convictions  and  his  passions  be- 
coming still  more  strongly  engaged  on  the  side  which  he  had 
already  espoused,  he  published  a  work  on  the  unity  of  the  church, 
in  which  the  conduct  of  his  sovereign  and  benefactor  became 
the  topic  of  his  vehement  invective. 

The  offended  king,  probably  with  treacherous  intentions,  in- 
vited Pole  to  come  to  England,  and  explain  to  him  in  person 
certain  difficult  passages  of  his  book :  but  his  kinsman  was  too 
wary  to  trust  himself  in  such  hands  ;  and  his  refusal  to  obey  this 
summons,  which  implied  a  final  renunciation  of  his  country  and 
all  his  early  prospects,  was  immediately  rewarded  by  the  pope, 
through  the  emperor's  concurrence,  with  a  cardinal's  hat  and 
the  appointment  of  legate  to  Flanders.    But  alarmed,  as  well 
as  enraged,  at  seeing  the  man  whom  he  regarded  as  his  bitterest 
personal  enemy  placed  in  a  situation  so  convenient  for  carry 
ing  on  intrigues  with  the  disaffected  papists  in  England,  Henry 
addressed  so  strong  a  rempnstrance  to  the  governess  of  the  Ne 
therlands,  as  caused  her  to  send  the  cardinal  oat  of  the  country 
before  he  had  begun  to  exercise  the  functions  of  his  legantine, 
office. 

From  this  time,  to  maintain  any  intercourse  or  correspondence 
with  Pole  was  treated  by  the  king  as  either  in  itself  an  act  oi 
treason,  or  at  least  as  conclusive  evidence  of  traitorous  inten 
tions.    He  believed  that  the  darkest  designs  Avere  in  agitation 


S3 


THE  COURT  OF 


against  his  own  government  and  his  son's  succession ;  and  the 
circumstance  of  the  cardinal's  still  declining  to  take  any  but 
deacon's  orders,  notwithstanding  his  high  dignity  in  the  church, 
suggested  to  him  the  suspicion  that  his  kinsman  aimed  at  the 
crown  itself,  through  a  marriage  with  the  princess  Mary,  of 
whose  legitimacy  he  had  shown  himself  so  strenuous  a  cham- 
pion. What  foundation  there  might  be  for  such  an  idea  it  is 
difficult  to  determine. 

There  is  an  author  who  relates  that  the  lady  Mary  was  edu- 
cated with  the  cardinal  under  his  mother,  and  hints  that  an  early 
attachment  had  thus  been  formed  between  them  :*  A  statement 
manifestly  inaccurate,  since  Pole  was  sixteen  years  older  than 
the  princess ;  though  it  is  not  improbable  that  Mary,  during 
some  period  of  her  youth,  might  be  placed  under  the  care  of  the 
countess  of  Salisbury,  and  permited  to  associate  with  her  son  on 
easy  and  affectionate  terms.  It  is  well  known  that  after  Mary's 
accession,  Charles  V.  impeded  the  journey  of  Pole  into  England 
till  her  marriage  with  his  son  Philip  had  been  actually  solem- 
nised ;  but  this  was  probably  rather  from  a  persuasion  of  the  in- 
expediency of  the  cardinal's  sooner  opening  his  legantine  com- 
mission in  England,  than  from  any  fear  of  his  supplanting  in 
Mary's  affections  his  younger  rival,  though  some  have  ascribed 
to  the  emperor  the  latter  motive. 

When  however  it  is  recollected,  that  in  consequence  of  Hen- 
ry's having  caused  a  posthumous  judgment  of  treason  to  be  pro- 
nounced against  the  papal  martyr  Becket,  his  shrine  to  be  de- 
stroyed, his  bones  burned,  and  his  ashes  scattered,  the  pope  had 
at  length,  in  1538,  fulminated  against  him  the  long-suspended 
sentence  of  excommunication,  and  made  a  donation  of  his  king- 
dom to  the  king  of  Scots,  and  thus  impressed  the  sanction  of  reli- 
gion on  any  rebellious  attempts  of  his  Roman-catholic  subjects, — 
it  would  be  too  much  to  pronounce  the  apprehensions  of  the  mo- 
narch to  have  been  altogether  chimerical.  But  his  suspicion  ap- 
pears, as  usual,  to  have  gone  beyond  the  truth,  and  his  anger  to 
have  availed  itself  of  slight  pretexts  to  ruin  where  he  feared  and 
hated. 

Such  was  the  state  of  his  mind  when  the  treachery  or  weak- 
ness of  Geffrey  Pole  furnished  him  with  intelligence  of  a  trator- 
ous  correspondence  carried  on  with  his  brother  the  cardinal  bjr- 
several  persons  of  distinction  attached  to  the  papal  interets, 
and  in  which  he  had  himself  been  a  sharer.  On  his  information* 
the  marquis  of  Exeter,  viscount  Montacute,  sir  Edward  Nevil, 
and  sir  Nicholas  Carew,  were  apprehended,  tried  and  found 
guilty  of  high  treason.  Public  opinion. was  at  this  time  nothing ; 
and  notwithstanding  the  rank,  consequence  and  popularity  of 
the  men  whose  lives  were  sacrificed  on  this  occasion  ;  notwith- 
standing that  secret  consciousness  of  his  own  ill-will  towards 
them,  which  ought  to  have  rendered  Henry  more  than  usually 
cautious  in  his  proceedings, — not  even  an  attempt  was  made  to 

*  See  JJqyd's  Worthies,  article  Pole. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


$6 


ruder  their  guill  clear  and  notorious  to  the  nation  at  large; 
and  posterity  scarcely  even  knows  of  what  designs  they  were 
accused  ;  to  overt  acts  it  is  quite  certain  that  they  had  not  pro- 
ceeded. 

Henry  lord  Montacute  was  obnoxious  on  more  than  one  ac- 
count: he  was  the  brother  of  cardinal  Pole  ;  and  as  eldest  son 
of  Margaret,  sole  surviving  child  of  the  duke  of  Clarence  and 
heiress  to  her  brother  the  earl  of  Warwick,  he  might  be  regard- 
ed as  succeeding  to  those  claims  on  the  crown  which  under 
Henry  VII.  had  proved  fatal  to  the  last-mentioned  unfortunate 
and  ill-treated  nobleman.  During  the  early  part  of  this  reign, 
however,  he,  in  common  with  other  members  of  the  family  of 
Pole,  had  received  marks  of  the  friendship  of  Henry.  In  1514, 
his  mother  was  authorised  to  assume  the  title  of  countess  of 
Salisbury,  and  he  that  of  viscount  Montacute,  notwithstanding 
the  attainder  formerly  passed  against  the  great  house  of  Nevil, 
from  whom  these  honours  were  derived.  In  1521  lord  Monta- 
cute had  been  indicted  for  concealing  the  treasons,  real  or  pre- 
tended, of  the  duke  of  Buckingham  ;  but  inmediately  on  his 
acquittal  he  was  restored  to  the  good  graces  of  his  sovereign, 
and,  two  years  after,  attended  him  on  an  expdition  to  France. 

It  is  probable  that  lord  Montacute  was  popular ;  he  was  at 
least  a  partisan  of  the  old  religion,  and  heir  to  the  vast  posses- 
sions which  his  mother  derived  from  the  king-making  earl  of 
Warwick  her  maternal  grand -father ;  sufficient  motives  with 
Henry  for  now  wishing  his  removal.  If  th;  plot  in  which  he 
was  charged  by  his  perfidious  brother  with  paticipating,  had  in 
view  the  elevation  of  the  cardinal  to  a  matrimonial  crown  by  his 
union  with  the  princess  Mary,  which  seems  to  have  been  insi- 
nuated, lord  Montacute  must  at  least  stand  acquitted  of  all  de- 
sign of  asserting  his  own  title  ;  yet  it  may  justly  be  suspected 
that  his  character  of  representative  of  the  house  of  Clarence, 
was  by  Henry  placed  foremost  in  the  catalogue  of  his  offences. 

A  similar  remark  applies  still  more  forcibly  to  the  marquis  of 
Exeter,  Son  of  Catherine,  youngest  daughter  of  Edward  IV., 
and  so  lately  declared  his  heir  by  Henry  himself,  it  is  scarcely 
credible  that  any  inducement  could  have  drawn  this  nobleman 
into  a  plot  for  disturbing  the  succession  in  favour  of  a  claim 
worse  founded  than  his  own  ;  and  that  the  blood  which  he  in- 
herited was  the  true  object  of  Henry's  apprehensions  from  him, 
evidently  appeared  to  all  the  world  by  his  causing  the  son  of 
the  unhappy  marquis,  a  child  at  this  period,  to  be  detained  a 
state  prisoner  in  the  Tower  during  the  remainder  of  his  reign. 

Sir  Edward  Nevil  was  brother  to  lord  Abergavenny  and  to 
the  wife  of  lord  Montacute — a  connection  likely  to  bring  him 
into  suspicion,  and  perhaps  to  involve  him  in  real  guilt ;  but  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  he  was  a  lineal  descendant  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster  by  Joan  daughter  <  f  o  ni  of  Gaunt.  The  only 
person  not  of  royal  extraction  who  suffered  on  this  occasion  was 
sir  Nicholas  Carew,  master  of  the  horse,  and  lately  a  distin- 
guished favourite  of  the  king ;  of  whom  it  is  traditionally  re- 


THE  COURT  OF 


lated,  that  though  accused  as  an  accomplice  in  the  designs  of 
the  other  noble  delinquents,  the  real  offence  for  which  he  died, 
was  the  having  retorted,  with  more  spirit  than  prudence,  some 
opprobrious  language  with  which  his  royal  master  had  insulted 
him  as  they  were  playing  at  bowls  together.*  The  family  of 
Carew  was  however  allied  in  blood  to  that  of  Courtney,  of  which 
the  marquis  of  Exeter  was  the  head. 

But  the  attempt  to  extirpate  all  who  under  any  future  circum- 
stances might  be  supposed  capable  of  advancing  claims  formida- 
ble to  the  house  of  Tudor,  must  have  appeared  to  Henry  him- 
self a  task  almost  as  hopeless  as  cruel.  Sons  and  daughters  of 
the  Plantagenet  princes  had  in  every  generation  freely  inter- 
married with  the  ancient  nobles  of  the  land ;  and  as  fast  as 
those  were  cut  off  whose  connection  with  the  royal  blood  was 
nearest  and  most  recent,  the  pedigrees  of  families  pointed  out 
others,  and  others  still,  whose  relationship  grew  into  nearness  by 
the  removal  of  such  as  had  stood  before  them,  and  presented  to 
the  affrighted  eyes  of  their  persecutor,  a  hydra  with  still  renew- 
ed and  multiplying  heads. 

Not  content  vith  these  inflictions, — sufficiently  severe  it 
might  be  thought  to  intimidate  the  papal  faction, — Henry  grati- 
fied still  further  his  stern  disposition  by  the  attainder  of  the 
marchoiness  of  Eieter  and  the  aged  countess  of  Salisbury.  The 
marchoiness  ne  s>on  after  released  ;  but  the  countess  was  still 
detained  prisoner  under  a  sentence  of  death,  which  a  parliament, 
atrocious  in  its  subserviency,  had  passed  upon  her  without  form 
of  trial,  but  which  the  king  did  not  think  proper  at  present  to 
carry  into  execution,  either  because  he  chose  to  keep  her  as  a 
kind  of  hostage  for  the  good  behaviour  of  her  son  the  cardinal, 
or  because,  tyrant  as  he  had  become,  he  had  not  yet  been  able 
to  divest  himself  of  all  reverence  or  pity  for  the  hoary  head  of  a 
female,  a  kinswoman,  and  the  last  who  was  born  to  the  name  of 
Plantagenet. 

It  is  melancholy,  it  is  even  disgusting,  to  dwell  upon  these 
acts  of  legalised  atrocity,  but  let  it  be  allowed  that  it  is  import- 
ant and  instructive.  They  form  unhappily  a  leading  feature  of 
the  administration  of  Henry  VIII.  during  the  latter  years  of  his 
reign  ;  they  exhibit  in  the  most  striking  point  of  view  the  senti- 
ments and  practices  of  the  age ;  and  may  assist  us  to  form  a 
juster  estimate  of  the  character  and  conduct  of  Elizabeth,  whose 
infant  mind  was  formed  to  the  contemplation  of  these  domestic 
tragedies,  and  whose  fame  has  often  suffered  by  inconsiderate 
comparisons  which  have  placed  her  in  parallel  with  the  enlight- 
ened and  humanised  sovereigns  of  more  modern  days,  rather 
than  with  the  stern  and  arbitrary  Tudors,  her  barbarous  pre- 
decessors. 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  protestant  party  at  the  court  ol 
Henry,  so  far  from  gaining  strength  and  influence  by  the  seve- 
rities exercised  against  the  adherents  of  cardinal  Pole  and  the 


*  See  Fuller's  Worthies  in  Surry. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


ancient  religion  was  evidently  in  a  declining  state.  The  feeble 
efforts  of  its  two  leaders  Cromwel  and  Craniner,  of  whom  the 
first  was  deficient  in  zeal,  the  last  in  courage,  now  experienced 
irresistible  counteraction  from  the  influence  of  Gardiner,  whose 
uncommon  talents  for  business,  joined  to  his  extreme  obsequi- 
ousness, had  rendered  him  at  once  necessary  and  acceptable  to 
} lis  royal  master.  The  law  of  the  Six  Articles,  which  forbade- 
under  the  highest  penalties  the  denial  of  several  doctrines  of 
the  Romish  church  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  the  reformers,  was 
probably  drawn  up  by  this  minister.  It  was  enacted  in  the  par- 
liament of  1539  :  a  vast  number  of  persons  were  soon  after  im- 
prisoned for  transgressing  it ;  and  Cranmer  himself  was  com- 
pelled, by  the  clause  which  ordained  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy, 
to  send  away  his  wife. 

Under  these  circumstances  Cromwel  began  to  look  on  all 
sides  for  support ;  and  recollecting  with  regret  the  powerful 
influence  exerted  by  Anne  Boleyn  in  favour  of  the  good  cause, 
and  even  the  gentler  and  more  private  aid  lent  to  it  by  the  late 
queen,  he  planned  a  new  marriage  for  his  sovereign,  with  a  lady 
educated  in  the  very  bosom  of  the  protestant  communion.  Po- 
litical considerations  favoured  the  design  ;  since  a  treaty  lately 
concluded  between  the  emperor  and  the  king  of  France  rendered 
it  highly  expedient  that  Henry,  by  way  of  counterpoise,  should 
strengthen  his  alliance  with  the  Smalcaldic  league.  In  short, 
Cromwel  prevailed.  Holbein,  whom  the  king  had  appointed  his 
painter  on  the  recommendation  of  sir  Thomas  More,  and  still 
retained  in  that  capacity,  was  sent  over  to  take  the  portrait  of 
Anne  sister  of  the  duke  of  Cleves  :  and  rashly  trusting  in  the 
fidelity  of  the  likeness,  Henry  soon  after  solicited  her  hand  in 
marriage. 

"The  lady  Anne,"  says  a  historian,  "understood  no  lan- 
guage but  Dutch,  so  that  all  communication  of  speech  between 
her  and  our  king  was  intercluded.  Yet  our  embassador,  Nicholas 
Watton,  doctor  of  law,  employed  in  the  business,  hath  it,  that 
she  could  both  read  and  write  in  herown  language,  and  sew  very 
well ;  only  for  music,  he  said,  it  was  not  the  manner  of  the 
country  to  learn  it*."  It  must  be  confessed  that  for  a  princess 
this  list  of  accomplishments  appears  somewhat  scanty ;  and 
Henry,  unfortunately  for  the  lady  Anne,  was  a  great  admirer  of 
learning,  wit  and  talents,  in  the  female  sex,  and  a  passionate 
lover  of  music,  which  he  well  understood.  What  was  still 
worse,  he  piqued  himself  extremely  on  his  taste  in  beauty,  and 
was  much  more  solicitous  respecting  the  personal  charms  of  his 
consorts  than  is  usual  witli  sovereigns ;  and  when,  on  the  arrival 
of  his  destined  bride  in  England,  he  hastened  to  Rochester  to 
gratify  his  impatience  by  snatching  a  private  view  of  her,  he 
found  that  in  this  capital  article  he  had  been  grievously  imposed 
upon.  The  uncourteous  comparison  by  which  he  expressed  his 
dislike  of  her  large  and  clumsy  person  is  well  known.  Bitterly  did 


•Herbert. 

D 


26 


THE  COURT  OF 


he  lament  to  Cromwel  the  hard  fortune  which  had  allotted  him 
so  unlovely  a  partner,  and  he  returned  to  London  very  melan- 
choly. Rut  the  evil  appeared  to  be  now  past  remedy  ;  it  was 
contrary  to  all  policy  to  affront  the  German  princes  by  sending 
back  their  countrywoman  after  matters  had  gone  so  far,  and 
Henry  magnanimously  resolved  to  sacrifice  his  own  feelings, 
once  in  his  life,  for  the  good  of  his  country.  Accordingly,  he 
received  the  princess  with  great  magnificence  and  with  every 
outward  demonstration  of  satisfaction,  and  was  married  to  her 
at  Greenwich  in  January  1540. 

Two  or  three  months  afterwards,  the  king,  notwithstanding 
his  secret  dissatisfaction,  rewarded  Cromwel  for  his  pains  in 
concluding  this  union  by  conferring  on  him  the  vacant  title  of 
earl  of  Essex ; — a  fatal  gift,  which  exasperated  to  rage  the  min- 
gled jealousy  and  disdain  which  this  low-born  and  aspiring  mi- 
nister had  already  provoked  from  the  ancient  nobility,  by  intru- 
ding himself  into  the  order  of  the  garter,  and  which  served  to 
heap  upon  his  devoted  head  fresh  coals  of  wrath  against  the  day 
of  retribution  which  was  fast  approaching.  The  act  of  transfer- 
ring this  title  to  a  new  family,  could  in  fact  be  no  otherwise 
regarded  by  the  great  house  of  Bourchier,  which  had  long  en- 
joyed it,  than  either  as  a  marked  indignity  to  itself,  or  as  a  fresh 
result  of  the  general  Tudor  system  of  depressing  and  discounte- 
nancing the  blood  of  the  Plantagenets,  from  which  the  Bour- 
chiers,  through  a  daughter  of  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  were  des- 
cended. The  late  earl  had  left  a  married  daughter,  to  whom, 
according  to  the  customary  courtesy  of  English  sovereigns  in 
similar  circumstances,  the  title  ought  to  have  been  continued  ; 
and  as  this  lady  had  no  children,  the  earl  of  Bath,  as  head  of 
the  house,  felt  himself  also  aggrieved  by  the  alienation  of  family 
honours  which  he  hoped  to  have  seen  continued  to  himself  and 
his  posterity. 

In  honour,  probably,  of  the  recent  marriage  of  the  king,  un- 
usually splendid  justs  were  opened  at  Westminster  on  May- 
day ;  in  which  the  challengers  were  headed  by  sir  John  Dudley, 
and  the  defenders  by  the  earl  of  Surry.  This  entertainment  was 
continued  for  several  successive  days,  during  which  the  chal- 
lengers, according  to  the  costly  fashion  of  ancient  hospitality, 
kept  open  house  at  their  common  charge,  and  feasted  the  king 
and  queen,  the  members  of  both  houses,  and  the  lord-mayor  and 
aldermen  with  their  wives. 

But  scenes  of  pomp  and  festivity  had  no  power  to  divert  the 
thoughts  of  the  king  from  his  domestic  grievance, — a  wife  whom 
he  regarded  with  disgust ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  probable  that 
this  season  of  courtly  revelry  increased  his  disquiet,  by  giving 
him  opportunities  of  beholding  under  the  most  attractive  cir- 
cumstances the  charms  of  a  youthful  beauty  whom  he  was  soon 
seized  w  ith  the  most  violent  desire  of  placing  beside  him  on  the 
throne  which  he  judged  her  worthy  to  adorn. 

No  considerations  of  rectitude  or  of  policy  could  longer  res- 
train the  impetuous  monarch  from  casting  oft' the  yoke  of  a  de- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


tested  marriage:  and  as  a  first  step  towards  emancipation,  he 
determined  to  permit  the  ruin  of  its  original  adviser,  that  un- 
popular minister,  but  vigorous  and  serviceable  instrument  of  ar- 
bitrary power,  whom  he  had  hitherto  defended  with  pertinacity 
against  all  attacks. 

No  sooner  was  the  decline  of  his  favour  perceived,  and  what  so 
fiuickh  perceived  at  courts?  than  the  ill-fated  Cromwel  found 
himself  assailed  on  every  side.  His  active  agency  in  the  sup- 
pression of  monasteries  had  brought  upon  him,  with  the  impu- 
tation of  sacrilege,  the  hatred  of  all  the  papists; — a  certain  cold- 
ness, or  timidity,  which  he  had  manifested  in  the  cause  of  reli- 
gious reformation  in  other  respects,  and  particularly  the  enact- 
ment of  the  Six  Articles  during  his  administration,  had  rendered 
him  an  object  of  suspicion  or  dislike  to  the  protestants  ; — in  his 
new  and  undefined  office  of  royal  vicegerent  for  the  exercise  of 
the  supremacy,  he  had  offended  the  whole  body  of  the  clergy; 
— and  he  had  just  filled  up  the  measure  of  his  offences  against 
the  nobility  by  procuring  a  grant  of  the  place  of  lord  high-stew- 
ard, long  hereditary  in  the  great  house  of  the  Veres  earls  of  Ox- 
ford. The  only  voice  raised  in  his  favour  was  that  of  Cranmer, 
w  ho  interceded  with  Henry  in  his  behalf  in  a  letter  eloquent, 
touching,  and  even  courageous,  times  and  persons  considered. 
Gardiner  and  the  duke  of  Norfolk  urged  on  his  accusation  ;  the 
parliament,  with  its  accustomed  subserviency,  proceeded  against 
him  by  attainder ;  and  having  voted  him  guilty  of  heresy  and 
treason,  left  it  in  the  choice  of  the  king  to  bring  him  either  to 
the  block  or  the  stake  for  whichever  he  pleased  of  these  offences  ; 
neither  of  which  was  proved  by  evidence,  or  even  supported  by 
reasonable  probabilities.  But  against  this  violation  in  his  person 
of  the  chartered  rights  of  Englishmen,  however  flagrant,  the  un- 
fortunate earl  of  Essex  had  forfeited  all  right  to  appeal,  since  it 
was  himself  who  had  first  advised  the  same  arbitrary  mode  of 
proceeding  in  the  cases  of  the  marchioness  of  Exeter,  of  the 
countess  of  Salisbury,  and  of  several  persons  of  inferior  rank 
connected  with  them  :  on  whom  capital  punishment  had  already 
been  inflicted. 

With  many  private  virtues,  Essex,  like  his  great  master  Wol- 
sey,  and  like  the  disgraced  ministers  of  dispotic  princes  in  ge- 
neral, perished  unpitied  ;  and  the  king  and  the  faction  of  Gar- 
diner and  of  the  Howards  seemed  equally  to  rejoice  in  the  free 
course  opened  by  his  removal  to  their  further  projects.  The 
parliament  was  immediately  ordered  to  find  valid  a  certain  frivo- 
lous pretext  of  a  prior  contract,  on  which  its  master  was  pleased 
to  demand  a  divorce  from  Anne  of  Cleves  ;  and  the  marriage  was 
unanimously  declared  nullj  without  any  opportunity  afforded  to 
the  queen  of  bringing  evidence  in  its  support. 

The  fortitude,  or  rather  phlegm,  with  which  her  unmerited 
degradation  was  supported  by  the  lady  Anne,  has  in  it  something 
at  once  extraordinary  and  amusing.  There  is  indeed  a  tradition 
that  she  fainted  on  first  receiving  the  information  that  her  mar- 
riage was  likely  to  be  set  aside:  but  the  shock  onceover,  she 


28 


THE  COURT  OF 


gave  to  the  divorce,  without  hesitation  or  visible  reluctance,  that 
assent  which  was  required  of  her.  Taking  in  good  part  the  pen- 
sion of  three  thousand  pounds  per  annum,  and  the  title  of  his 
sister  which  her  ex-husband  was  graciously  pleased  to  offer  her, 
she  wrote  to  her  brother  the  elector,  to  entreat  him  still  to  live 
in  amity  with  the  king  of  England,  against  whom  she  had  no 
ground  of  complaint ;  and  she  continued,  till  the  day  of  her  death, 
to  make  his  country  her  abode.  Through  the  whole  affair, 
she  gave  no  indication  of  wounded  pride;  unless  her  refusal 
to  return  in  the  character  of  a  discarded  and  rejected  dam- 
sel, to  the  home  which  she  had  so  lately  quitted  in  all  the  pomp 
and  triumph  of  a  royal  bride,  is  to  be  regarded  as  such.  But 
even  for  this  part  of  her  conduct  a  different  motive  is  with  great 
plausibility  assigned  by  a  writer,  who  supposes  her  to  have  been 
swayed  by  the  prudent  consideration,  that  the  regular  payment 
of  her  pension  would  better  be  secured  by  her  remaining  under 
the  eyes  and  within  the  protection  of  the  English  nation. 

A  very  few  weeks  after  this  apparently  formidable  business 
had  been  thus  readily  and  amicably  arranged,  Catherine  How- 
ard niece  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  first  cousin  to  Anne 
Boleyn,  was  declared  queen.  This  lady,  beautiful,  insinuating, 
and  more  fondly  beloved  by  the  king  than  any  of  her  predeces- 
sors, was  a  catholic,  and  almost  all  the  members  of  the  council 
who  now  possessed  office  or  influence  were  attached,  more  or 
less  openly,  to  the  same  communion.  In  consequence,  the  penal- 
ties of  the  Six  Articles  were  enforced  with  great  cruelty  against 
the  reformers ;  but  this  did  not  exempt  from  punishment  such 
as,  offending  on  the  other  side,  ventured  to  deny  the  royal  su- 
premacy; the  only  difference  was,  that  the  former  class  of  cul- 
prits were  burned  as  heretics,  the  latter  hanged  as  traitors. 

The  king  soon  after  seized  the  occasion  of  a  trifling  insurrection 
in  Yorkshire,  of  which  sir  John  Nevil  was  the  leader,  to  com- 
plete his  vengeance  against  cardinal  Pole,  by  bringing  to  a  cruel 
and  ignominious  end  the  days  of  his  venerable  and  sorrow- 
stricken  mother,  who  had  been  unfortunate  enough  thus  long  to 
survive  the  ruin  of  her  family.  The  strange  and  shocking  scene 
exhibited  on  the  scaffold  by  the  despi ration  of  this  illustrious 
and  injured  lady,  is  detailed  by  all  our  historians  :  it  seems  al- 
most incredible  that  the  surrounding  crowd  were  not  urged  by 
an  unanimous  impulse  of  horror  and  compassion  to  rush  in  and 
rescue  from  the  murderous  hands  of  the  executioner  the  last 
miserable  representative  of  such  aline  of  princes.  But  the  eyes 
of  Henry's  subjects  were  habituated  to  these  scenes  of  blood ; 
and  they  were  viewed  by  some  with  indifference,  and  by  the  rest 
with  emotions  of  terror  which  effectually  repressed  the  generous 
movements  of  a  just  and  manly  indignation. 

In  public  causes,  to  be  accused  and  to  suffer  death  were  now 
the  same  thing ;  and  another  eminent  victim  of  the  policy  of  the 
English  Tiberius  displayed  in  a  novel  and  truly  portentous  man- 
ner his  utter  despair  of  the  justice  of  the  country  and  the  mercy 
of  his  sovereign. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


2J> 


Lord  Leonard  Grey,  late  deputy  of  Ireland,  was  accused  of 
favouring  the  escape  of  that  persecuted  child  his  nephew  Gerald 
Fitzgerald,  of  c^esponding  with  cardinal  Pole,  and  of  various 
other  offences  ciffed  treasonable.  Being  brought  before  a  jury 
of  knights,  "  he  saved  them,"  says  lord  Herbert,  "  the  labour  ol 
condemning  him,  and  without  more  ado  confessed  all.  Which, 
whether  this  lord,  who  was  of  great  courage,  did  out  of  despera- 
tion or  guilt,  some  circumstances  make  doubtful  ;  and  the  rather, 
that  the  articles  being  so  many,  he  neither  denied  nor  extenuated 
any  of  them,  though  his  continual  fighting  with  the  king's  ene- 
mies, where  occasion  was,  pleaded  much  on  his  part.  Howso- 
ever, he  had  his  head  cutoff."* 

The  queen  and  her  party  were  daily  gaining  upon  the  mind 
of  the  king ;  and  Cranmer  himself,  notwithstanding  the  high  es- 
teem entertained  for  him  by  Henry,  had  begun  to  be  endangered 
by  their  machinations,  when  an  unexpected  discovery  put  into 
his  hands  the  means  of  baffling  all  their  designs,  and  producing 
a  total  revolution  in  the  face  of  the  court. 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  the  year  1541  that  private  infor- 
mation was  conveyed  to  the  primate  of  such  disorders  in  the 
conduct  of  the  queen  before  her  marriage  as  could  not  fail  to 
plunge  her  in  infamy  and  ruin.  Cranmer,  if  not  exceedingly 
grieved,  was  at  least  greatly  perplexed  by  the  incident : — at  first 
sight  there  appeared  to  be  equal  danger  in  concealing  or  dis- 
covering circumstances  of  a  nature  so  delicate,  and  the  arch- 
bishop was  timid  by  nature,  and  cautious  from  the  experience  of 
a  court.  At  length,  all  things  well  weighed,  he  judiciously  pre- 
ferred the  hazard  of  making  the  communication  at  once,  without 
reserve,  and  directly  to  the  person  most  interested;  and,  forming 
into  a  narrative,  facts  which  his  tongue  dared  not  utter  to  the 
face  of  a  prince  whose  anger  was  deadly,  he  presented  it  to  him 
and  entreated  him  to  peruse  it  in  secret.  9 

Love  and  pride  conspired  to  persuade  the  king  that  his  Ca- 
therine was  incapable  of  having  imposed  upon  him  thus  grossly, 
and  he  at  once  pronounced  the  whole  story  a  malicious  fabrica- 
tion ;  but  the  strict  inquiry  which  he  caused  to  be  instituted  for 
the  purpose  of  punishing  its  authors,  not  only  established  the 
truth  of  the  accusations  already  brought,  but  served  also  to 
throw  the  strongest  suspicions  on  the  conjugal  fidelity  of  the 
queen. 

The  agonies  of  Henry  on  this  occasion  were  such  as  in  any 
other  husband  would  have  merited  the  deepest  compassion  :  with 
him  they  were  quickly  succeeded  by  the  most  violent  rage  ;  and 
his  cry  for  vengeance  was,  as  usual,  echoed  with  alacrity  by  a 
loyal  and  sympathizing  parliament.  Party  animosity  profitted 
by  the  occasion  and  gave  additional  impulse  to  their  proceed- 
ings. After  convicting  by  attainder  the  queen  and  her  para- 
mours, who  were  soon  after  put  to  death,  the  two  houses  pro- 

*  Many  years  after,  the  earl  of  Kildare  solemnly  assured  the  author  of  the 
Chronicles  of  Ireland"  in  Holinshed,  that  lord  Leonard  Grey  had  no  concern 
■whatever  in  his  escape 


50 


THE  COURT  OF 


ceeded  also  to  attaint  her  uncle,  aunt,  grand-mother,  and  aboufc 
ten  other  persons,  male  and  female,  accused  of  being  accessary 
or  privy  to  her  disorders  before  marriage,  anckwf  not  revealing 
them  to  the  king  when  they  became  acquaint^^vith  his  inten- 
tion of  making  her  his  consort ;  an  offence  declared  to  be  mis- 
prision of  treason  by  an  ex  post  facto  law.  But  this  was  an  ex- 
cess of  barbarity  of  which  Henry  himself  was  ashamed  :  the  in- 
famous lady  Rochford  was  the  only  confident  who  suffered  ca- 
pitally ;  the  rest  were  released  after  imprisonments  of  longer 
or  shorter  duration  ;  yet  a  reserve  of  bitterness  appears  to  have 
remained  stored  up  in  the  heart  of  the  king  against  the  whole 
race  of  Howard,  which  the  enemies  of  that  illustrious  house  well 
knew  how  to  cherish  and  augment  against  a  future  day. 


CHAPTER  III. 

1542  to  1547.  *    •  .'.%  *  '* 

MM  of  Solway  and  death  of  James  V.  of  Scotland. — Birth  of 
queen  Mary. — Henry  projects  to  marry  her  to  his  son. — Offers 
the  hand  of  Elizabeth  to  the  earl  of  Arran. — Earl  of  Lenox 
marries  lady  M.  Douglas. — Marriage  of  the  king  to  Catherine 
Parr.  —  Her  person  and  acquirements.  —  Influence  of  her 
conduct  on  Elizabeth. — Henry  joins  the  emperor  against  Fran- 
cis I. — His  campaign  in  France. — Princess  Mary  replaced  in 
order  of  succession,  and  Elizabeth  cdso. — Proposals  for  a  mar- 
riage between  Elizabeth  and  Philip  of  Spain. — The  duke  oj 
Norfolk  and  earl  of  Hertford  heads  of  the  catholic  and  protest- 
ant  parties. — Circumstances  which  give  a  preponderance  to  the 
latter. — Disgrace  of  the  duke. — Trial  of  the  earl  of  Surry. — 
His  death  and  character. — Sentence  against  the  duke  of  Nor- 
folk.— Death  of  Henry, 


IN  the  month  of  December,  1542,  shortly  after  the  rout  of 
Solway,  in  which  the  English  made  prisoners  the  flower  of  the 
Scottish  nobility,  the  same  messenger  brought  to  Henry  VI II. 
the  tidings  that  the  grief  and  shame  of  this  defeat  had  broken 
the  heart  of  king  James  V.,  and  that  his  queen  had  brought  into 
the  world  a  daughter,  who  had  received  the  name  of  Mary,  and 
was  now  queen  of  Scotland.  Without  stopping  to  deplore  he 
melancholy  fate  of  a  nephew  whom  he  had  himself  brought  to 
destruction,  Henry  instantly  formed  the  project  of  uniting  the 
whole  island  under  one  crown,  by  the  marriage  of  this  infant  so- 
vereign with  the  prince  his  son.  All  the  Scottish  prisoners  of 
rank  then  in  London  were  immediately  offered  the  liberty  of  re- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


31 


turning  to  their  own  country  on  the  condition,  to  which  they  ac- 
ceded with  apparent  alacrity,  of  promoting  this  union  with  all 
their  interest;  so  confident  was  the  English  monarch  in  the 
success  of  his  measures,  that  previously  to  their  departure,  seve- 
ral of  them  were  carried  to  the  palace  of  Enfield,  where  young 
Edward  then  resided,  that  they  might  tender  homage  to  the 
future  husband  of  their  queen. 

The  regency  of  Scotland  at  this  critical  juncture  was  claimed 
by  the  earl  of  Arran,  who  was  generally  regarded  as  next  heir  to 
the  crown,  though  his  legitimacy  had  been  disputed ;  and  to  this 
nobleman, — but  whether  lor  himself  or  his  son  seems  doubtful, — 
Henry,  as  a  further  means  of  securing  the  important  object  which 
he  had  at  heart,  offered  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Elizabeth.  So 
earlvwere  the  concerns  and  interests  blended,  of  two  princesses 
whose  celebrated  rivalry  was  destined  to  endure  until  the  life  oi 
one  of  them  had  become  its  sacrifice !  So  remarkably,  too,  in  this 
first  transaction  was  contrasted  the  high  pre-eminence  from  which 
the  Scottish  princess  was  destined  to  hurl  herself  by  her  own 
misconduct,  with  the  abasement  and  comparative  insignificance 
out  of  which  her  genius  and  her  good  fortune  were  to  be  em- 
ployed in  elevating  the  future  sovereign  of  England. 

Horn  in  the  purple  of  her  hereditary  kingdom,  the  monarchs 
of  France  and  England  made  it  an  object  of  eager  contention 
which  of  them  should  succeed  in  encircling  with  a  second  dia- 
dem the  baby  brows  of  Mary ;  while  the  hand  of  Elizabeth  was 
tossed  as  a  trivial  boon  to  a  Scottish  earl  of  equivocal  birth,  des- 
picable abilities,  and  feeble  character.  So  little  too  was  even 
this  person  flattered  by  the  honour,  or  aware  of  the  advantages, 
of  such  a  connection,  that  he  soon  after  renounced  it  by  quitting 
the  English  for  the  French  party.  Elizabeth  in  consequence 
remained  unbetrothed,  and  her  father  soon  afterwards  secured 
to  himself  a  more  strenuous  ally  in  the  earl  of  Lenox,  also  of 
the  blood -royal  of  Scotland,  by  bestowing  upon  this  nobleman 
the  hand,  not  of  his  daughter,  but  of  his  niece  the  lady  Marga- 
ret Douglas. 

Undeterred  by  his  late  severe  disappointment,  Henry  was 
bent  on  entering  once  more  into  the  marriage  state,  and  his 
choice  now  fell  on  Catherine  Parr,  sprung  from  a  knightly  family 
possessed  of  large  estates  in  Westmoreland,  and  widow-  of  lord 
Latimer,  a  member  of  the  great  house  of  Nevil. 

A  portrait  of  this  lady  still  in  existence,  exhibits,  with  fine 
and  regular  features,  a  character  of  intelligence  and  arch  sim- 
plicity extremely  captivating.  She  was  indeed  a  woman  of  un- 
common talent  and  address ;  and  her  mental  accomplishments, 
besides  the  honour  which  they  reflect  on  herself,  inspire  us  with 
respect  for  the  enlightened  liberality  of  m  age  in  which  such  ac- 
quirements could  be  placed  within  the  ambition  and  attainment 
of  a  private  gentlewoman,  born  in  a  remote  county,  remarkable 
even  in  much  later  times  for  a  primitive  simplicity  of  manners 
and  domestic  habits.  Catherine  was  both  learned  herself,  and, 
after  her  elevation  a  zealous  patroness  of  learning  and  of  pro- 


111E  COURT  OF 


testantism,  to  which  she  was  become  a  convert.  Nicholas  Udal 
master  of  Eton  was  employed  by  her  to  translate  Erasmus's  para- 
phrase of  the  four  gospels ;  and  there  is  extant  a  ^atin  letter  of  hers 
to  the  princess  Mary,  whose  conversion  from  popery  she  seems 
to  have  had  much  at  heart,  in  which  she  entreats  her  to  permit 
this  work  to  appear  under  her  auspices.  She  also  printed  some 
prayers  and  meditations,  and  there  was  found  among  her  papers, 
after  her  death,  a  piece  entitled  "  The  lamentations  of  a  sinner 
bewailing  her  blind  life,"  in  which  she  deplores  the  years  that 
she  had  passed  in  popish  observances,  and  which  was  afterwards 
published  by  secretary  Cecil. 

It  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  address  of  this  queen,  that  she  con 
ciliated  the  affection  of  all  the  three  children  of  the  king,  letters 
from  each  of  whom  have  been  preserved  addressed  to  her  after 
the  death  of  their  father. 

Elizabeth  in  particular  maintained  with  her  a  very  intimate 
and  frequent  intercourse  ;  which  ended  however  in  a  manner  re- 
flecting little  credit  on  either  party,  as  will  be  more  fully  ex- 
plained in  its  proper  place. 

The  adroitness  with  which  Catherine  extricated  herself  from 
the  snare  in  which  her  own  religious  zeal,  the  moroseness  of  the 
king,  and  the  enmity  of  Gardiner  had  conspired  to  entangle  her, 
has  often  been  celebrated.  May  it  not  be  conjectured,  that  such 
an  example,  given  by  one  of  whom  she  entertained  a  high  opinion, 
might  exert  no  inconsiderable  influence  on  the  opening  mind  of 
Elizabeth,  whose  conduct  in  the  many  similar  dilemmas  to  which 
it  was  her  lot  to  be  reduced,  partook  so  much  of  the  same  cha- 
racter of  politic  and  cautious  equivocation  ? 

Henry  discovered  by  experiment  that  it  would  prove  a  much 
more  difficult  matter  than  he  had  apprehended,  to  accomplish, 
either  by  force  or  persuasion,  the  marriage  of  young  Edward 
•with  the  queen  of  Scots  ;  and  learning,  that  it  was  principally  to 
the  intrigues  of  Francis  I.,  against  whom  he  had  other  causes 
also  of  complaint,  that  he  was  likely  to  owe  the  disappointment 
*>f  this  favourite  scheme,  he  determined  on  revenge.  With  this 
design  he  turned  his  eyes  on  the  emperor ;  and  finding  Charles 
perfectly  well  disposed  to  forget  all  ancient  animosities  in  sym- 
pathy with  his  newly-conceived  indignation  against  the  French 
king,  he  entered  with  him  into  a  strict  alliance.  War  was  soon 
declared  against  France  by  the  new  confederates ;  and  after  a 
campaign  in  which  little  was  effected,  it  was  agreed  that  Charles 
and  Henry,  uniting  their  efforts,  should  assail  that  kingdom  with 
a  force  which  it  was  judged  incapable  of  resisting,  and  without 
stopping  at  inferior  objects,  march  straight  to  Paris.  Accor- 
dingly in  July  1544,  preceded  by  a  fine  army,  and  attended  by 
the  flowrer  of  his  nobility  splendidly  equipped,  Henry  took  his 
departure  for  Calais  in  a  ship  the  sails  of  which  were  made  of 
cloth  of  gold. 

He  arrived  in  safety,  and  enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  dazzling 
with  his  magnificence  the  count  de  Buren  whom  the  emperor 
sent  with  a  body  of  horse  to  meet  him;  quarrelled  soon  after 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH 


with  that  potentate,  who  found  it  his  interest  to  make  a  separate 
peace;  took  the  towns  of  Montreuil  and  Boulogne,  neither  of 
them  of  any  \alue  to  him,  and  returned. 

So  foolish  and  expensive  a  sally  of  passion,  however  charac- 
teristic of  the  disposition  of  this  monarch,  would  not  merit  com- 
memoration in  this  place,  but  tor  the  important  influence  which 
it  unexpectedly  exerted  on  the  fortune  and  expectations  of  Eli- 
zabeth through  the  following  train  of  circumstances. 

The  emperor,  whose  long  enmity  with  Henry  had  taken  its  rise 
from  what  he  justly  regarded  as  the  injuries  of  Catherine  of  Ar- 
ragon  his  aunt,  in  whose  person  the  whole  royal  family  of  Spain 
.had  been  insulted,  had  required  of  him  as  a  preliminary  to  their 
treaty  a  formal  acknowledgment  of  the  legitimacy  of  his  daugh- 
ter Mary.  This  Henry  could  not,  with  any  regard  to  consis- 
tency, grant ;  but  desirous  to  accede  as  far  as  he  conveniently 
could  to  the  wishes  of  his  new  ally,  he  consented  to  stipulate, 
that  without  any  explanation  on  this  point,  his  eldest  daughter 
should  by  act  of  parliament  be  reinstated  in  the  order  of  suc- 
cession. At  the  same  time,  glad  to  relent  in  behalf  of  his  fa- 
vourite child,  and  unwilling  perhaps  to  give  the  catholic  party 
the  triumph  of  asserting  that  he  had  virtually  declared  his  first 
marriage  more  lawful  than  his  second,  he  caused  a  similar  pri- 
vilege to  be  extended  to  Elizabeth,  who  was  thus  happily  re- 
stored to  her  original  station  and  prospects,  before  she  had  at- 
tained sufficient  maturity  of  age  to  suffer  by  the  cruel  and  morti- 
fying degradation  to  which  she  had  been  for  several  years  sub- 
jected. 

Henceforth,  though  the  act  which  declared  null  the  marriage 
of  the  king  with  Anne  Boleyn  remained  for  ever  unrepealed, 
her  daughter  appears  to  have  been  universally  recognised  on  the 
footing  of  a  princess  of  England ;  and  so  completely  wrere  the 
old  disputes  concerning  the  divorce  of  Catherine  consigned  to 
oblivion,  that  in  1546,  when  France,  Spain,  and  England  had 
concluded  a  treaty  of  peace,  proposals  passed  between  the  courts 
of  London  and  Madrid  for  the  marriage  of  Elizabeth  with  Philip 
prince  of  Spain ;  that  very  Philip  afterwards  her  brother-in-law 
and  in  adversity  her  friend  and  protector,  then  a  second  time 
her  suitor,  and  afterwards  again  to  the  end  of  his  days  the  most 
formidable  and  implacable  of  her  enemies.  On  which  side,  or  on 
what  assigned  objections,  this  treaty  of  marriage  was  relin- 
quished, we  do  not  learn ;  but  as  the  demonstrations  of  friend- 
ship between  Charles  and  Henry  after  their  French  campaign 
were  full  of  insincerity,  it  may  perhaps  be  doubted  whether 
either  party  was  ever  bent  in  earnest  on  the  completion  of  this 
extraordinary  union. 

The  popish  and  protestant  factions  which  now  divided  the 
English  court  had  for  several  years  acknowledged  as  their  re- 
spective leaders  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and  the  earl  of  Hertford. 
To  the  latter  of  these,  the  painful  impression  left  on  Henry's 
mind  by  the  excesses  of  Catherine  Howard,  the  religious  senti- 
ments embraced  by  the  present  queen,  the  king's  increasing 

E 


34 


THE  COURT  OF 


jealousy  of  the  ancient  nobility  of  the  country,  and  above  all  the 
visible  decline  of  his  health,  which  brought  into  immediate  pros- 
pect the  accession  of  young  Edward  under  the  tutelage  of  his 
uncle,  had  now  conspired  to  give  a  decided  preponderancy.  The 
aged  duke,  sagacious,  politic,  and  deeply  versed  in  all  the  se- 
crets and  the  arts  of  courts,  saw  in  a  coalition  with  the  Sey- 
mours the  only  expedient  for  averting  the  ruin  of  his  house 
and  he  proposed  to  bestow  his  daughter  the  duchess  of  Rich- 
mond in  marriage  on  sir  Thomas  Seymour,  while  he  exerted  all 
his  authority  with  his  son  to  prevail  upon  him  to  address  one  of 
the  daughters  of  the  earl  of  Hertford.  But  Surry's  scorn  of 
the  new  nobility  of  the  house  of  Seymour,  and  his  animosity 
against  the  person  of  its  chief,  was  not  to  be  overcome  by  any 
plea  of  expedience  or  threatening  of  danger.  He  could  not  for- 
get that  it  was  at  the  instance  of  the  earl  of  Hertford  that  he, 
with  some  other  nobles  and  gentlemen,  had  suffered  the  disgrace 
of  imprisonment  for  eating  flesh  in  Lent ;  that  when  a  trifling 
defeat  which  he  had  sustained  near  Boulonge  had  caused  him  to 
be  removed  from  the  government  of  that  town,  it  was  the  earl  of 
Hertford  who  ultimately  profitted  by  his  misfortune,  in  succeed- 
ing to  the  command  of  the  army.  Other  grounds  of  oftence  the 
haughty  Surry  had  also  conceived  against  him;  and  choosing 
rather  to  fall,  than  cling  for  support  to  an  enemy  at  once  des- 
pised and  hated,  he  braved  the  utmost  displeasure  of  his  father, 
by  an  absolute  refusal  to  lend  himself  to  such  a  scheme  of  alli- 
ance. Of  this  circumstance  his  enemies  availed  themselves  to 
instil  into  the  mind  of  the  king  a  suspicion  that  the  earl  of  Surry 
aspired  to  the  hand  of  the  princess  Mary  ;  they  also  comment- 
ed with  industrious  malice  on  his  bearing  the  arms  of  Edward 
the  Confessor,  to  which  he  was  clearly  entitled  in  right  of  his 
mother,  a  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  but  which  his 
more  cautious  father  had  ceased  to  quarter  after  the  attainder 
of  that  unfortunate  nobleman. 

The  sick  mind  of  Henry  received  with  eagerness  all  these 
suggestions,  and  the  ruin  of  the  earl  was  determined.*  An  in- 
dictment of  high  treason  was  preferred  against  him  :  his  propo- 
sal of  disproving  the  charge,  according  to  a  mode  then  legal,  by 
lighting  his  principal  accuser  in  his  shirt,  was  overruled ;  his 
spirited,  strong  and  eloquent  defence  was  disregarded — a  jury 

*  One  extraordinary,  and  indeed  unaccountable,  circumstance  in  the  life  of  the 
earl  of  Surry  may  here  be  noticed  :  that  while  his  father  urged  him  to  connect  him- 
self in  marriage  with  one  lady,  while  the  king;  was  jealous  of  his  designs  upon  a 
second,  and  while  he  himself,  as  may  be  collected  from  his  poem  "  To  a  lady  who 
refused  to  dance  with  him,"  made  proposals  of  marriage  to  a  third,  he  had  a  wife 
Viving.  To  this  lady,  wb,o  was  a  sister  ol  the  earl  of  Oxford,  he  was  united  at  the 
age  of  fifteen,  she  had  borne  h»m  five  children  ;  and  it  is  pretty  plain  that  they  were 
never  divorced,  for  we  find  her,  several  years  after  his  death,  still  bearing  the  title 
of  countess  of  Surry,  and  the  guai  dian  of  his  orphans.  Had  the  example  of  Henry 
instructed  his  courtiers  to  find  pretexts  tor  the  dissolution  of  the  matrimonial  tie 
whenever  interest  or  inclination  might  prompt,  and  did  our  courts  of  law  lend 
themselves  to  this  abuse  ?  A  preacher  of  Edward  the  sixth's  time  brings  such  an 
accusation  against  the  morals  of  the  age,  but  I  find  no  particular  examples  of  it  in 
the  histories  of  noble  familke, 


QURKN  ELIZABETH. 


3,5 


devoted  to  the  crown  brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty ;  and  in  Ja- 
nuary 1547,  at  the  early  age  of  seven-and-twenty,  lie  under- 
went the  fatal  sentence  of  the  law. 

No  one  during  the  whole  sanguinary  tyranny  of  Henry  VII  I. 
fell  more  guiltless,  or  more  generally  deplored  by  all  whom  per- 
sonal animosity  or  the  spirit  of  party  had  not  hardened  against 
sentiments  of  compassion,  or  blinded  to  the  perception  of  merit.' 
But  much  of  Surry  has  survived  the  cruelty  of  his  fate.  His 
beautiful  songs  and  sonnets,  which  served  as  a  model  to  the  most 
popular  poets  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth,  still  excite  the  admiration 
of  every  student  attached  to  the  early  literature  of  our  country. 
Amongst  other  frivolous  charges  brought  against  him  on  his  trial, 
it  was.  mentioned  that  he  kept  an  Italian  jester,  thought  to  be  a 
spy,  and  that  he  loved  to  converse  with  foreigners  and  conform 
his  behaviour  to  them.  For  his  personal  safety,  therefore,  it  was 
perhaps  unfortunate  that  a  portion  of  his  youth  had  been  passed 
in  a  visit  to  Italy,  then  the  focus  of  literature  and  fount  of  in- 
spiration ;  but  for  his  surviving  fame,  and  for  the  progress  of 
English  poetry,  the  circumstance  was  eminently  propitious  ; 
since  it  is  from  the  return  of  this  noble  traveller  that  we  are  to 
date  not  only  the  introduction  into  our  language  of  the  Petrar- 
chan sonnet,  and  with  it  of  a  tenderness  and  refinement  of  sen- 
timent unknown  to  the  barbarism  of  our  preceding  versifiers ; 
but  what  is  much  more,  that  of  heroic  blank  verse  ;  a  noble  mea- 
sure, of  which  the  earliest  example  exists  in  Surry's  spirited 
and  faithful  version  of  one  book  of  the  iEneid. 

The  exalted  rank,  the  splendid  talents,  the  lofty  spirit  of  this 
lamented  nobleman  seemed  to  destine  him  to  a  station  second 
to  none  among  the  public  characters  of  his  time  ;  and  if,  instead 
of  being  cut  off  by  the  hand  of  violence  in  the  morning  of  life, 
he  had  been  permitted  to  attain  a  length  of  days  at  all  approach- 
ing to  the  fourscore  years  of  his  father,  it  is  probable  that  the 
votary  of  letters  would  have  been  lost  to  us  in  the  statesman  or 
the  soldier.  Queen  Mary,  who  sought  by  her  favour  and  confi- 
dence to  revive  the  almost  extinguished  energies  of  his  father, 
and  called  forth  into  premature  distinction  the  aspiring  boyhood 
of  his  son,  would  have  intrusted  to  his  vigorous  years  the  high- 
est offices  and  most  weighty  affairs  of  state.  Perhaps  even  the 
suspicions  of  her  father  might  have  been  verified  by  the  event, 
and  her  own  royal  hand  might  itself  have  become  the  reward  of 
his  virtues  and  attachment. 

Elizabeth,  whose  maternal  ancestry  closely  connected  her 
with  the  house  of  Howard,  might  have  sought  and  found,  in  her 
kinsman  the  earl  of  Surry,  a  counsellor  and  friend  deserving  of 
all  her  confidence  and  esteem ;  and  it  is  possible  that  he,  with 
safety  and  effect,  might  have  placed  himself  as  a  mediator  be- 
tween the  queen  and  that  formidable  catholic  party  of  which  his 
misguided  son,  fatally  for  himself,  aspired  to  be  regarded  as  the 
leader,  and  was  in  fact  only  the  instrument.  But  the  career  of 
ambition,  ere  he  had  well  entered  it,  was  closed  upon  him  for 
ever ;  and  it  is  as  an  accomplished  knight,  a  polished  lover,  and 


THE  COURT  OF 


above  all  as  a  poet,  that  the  name  of  Surry  now  lives  in  the  an- 
nals of  his  country. 

Of  the  five  children  who  survived  to  feel  the  want  of  his  pa- 
ternal guidance,  one  daughter,  married  to  the  earl  of  Westmor- 
land, was  honourably  distinguished  by  talents,  erudition,  and 
the  patronage  of  letters  ;  but  of  the  two  sons,  the  elder  was  that 
unfortunate  duke  of  Norfolk  who  paid  on  the  scaffold  the  forfeit 
of  an  inconsiderate  and  guilty  enterprise ;  and  the  younger, 
created  earl  of  Northampton  by  James  I.,  lived  to  disgrace  his 
birtli  and  fine  talents  by  every  kind  of  baseness,  and  died  just  in 
time  to  escape  pu  nishment  as  an  accomplice  in  Overbury's  murder. 

The  duke  of  Norfolk  had  been  declared  guilty  of  high  treason 
on  grounds  equally  frivolous  with  his  son ;  but  the  opportune 
death  of  Henry  VIII.  on  the  day  that  his  cruel  and  unmerited 
sentence  was  to  have  been  carried  into  execution,  saved  his  life, 
when  his  humble  submissions  and  pathetic  supplications  for 
mercy  had  failed  to  touch  the  callous  heart  of  the  expiring  des- 
pot. The  jealousies  however,  religious  and  political,  of  the 
council  of  regency,  on  which  the  administration  devolved,  prompt- 
ed them  to  refuse  liberty  to  the  illustrious  prisoner  after  their 
weakness  or  their  clemency  had  granted  him  his  life.  During 
the  whole  reign  of  Edward  VI.  the  duke  was  detained  under 
close  custody  in  the  Tower ;  his  estates  were  confiscated,  his 
blood  attainted,  and  for  this  period  the  great  name  of  Howard 
disappears  from  the  page  of  English  history. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

1547  to  1549. 

.  Testamentary  provisions  of  Henry  VIII. — Exclusion  of  the  Scot- 
tish line. — Discontent  of  the  earl  of  Arundel. — His  character 
and  intrigues. — Hertford  declared  protector — becomes  duke  of 
Somerset. — Other  titles  conferred. — Thomas  Seymour  made 
lord-admiral — marries  tJie  queen  dowager. — His  discontent  and 
intrigues. — His  behaviour  to  Elizabeth. — Death  of  the  queen. 
— Seymour  aspires  to  the  hand  of  Elizabeth — conspires  against 
his  brother — is  attainted — put  to  death. — Particulars  of  his 
intercourse  with  Elizabeth. — Examinations  which  she  under- 
went on  this  subject^- Traits  of  her  early  character. —  Verses  on 
admiral  Seymour. — The  learning  of  Elizabeth. — Extracts  from. 
£scham?s  Letters  respecting  her,  Jane  Grey,  and  other  learned 
ladies. — Two  of  her  letters  to  Edward  VI. 


THE  death  of  Henry  VIII.,  which  took  place  on  January 
28th  1517,  opened  a  new  and  busy  scene,  and  affected  in  several 
important  points  the  situation  of  Elizabeth* 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


S7 


rhe  te3tament  by  which  the  parliament  had  empowered  the 
king  to  regulate  the  government  of  the  country  during  his  son's 
minority,  and  even  to  settle  the  order  of  succession  itself,  with 
as  full  authority  as  the  dist  ribution  of  his  private  property,  w  as 
the  lirst  object  of  attention  ;  and  its  provisions  were  found 
strongly  characteristic  of  the  temper  and  maxims  ot  its  author, 
lie  confirmed  the  act  of  parliament  by  which  his  two  daughters 
had  been  rendered  capable  of  inheriting  the  crown,  and  ap- 
pointed to  each  of  them  a  pension  of  three  thousand  pounds, 
with  a  marriage-portion  often  thousand  pounds,  but  annexed  the 
condition  of  their  marrying  w  ith  the  consent  of  such  of  his  exe- 
cutors as  should  be  living.  After  them,  he  placed  in  order  of 
succession  Frances  marchioness  of  Dorset,  and  Eleanor  countess 
of  Cumberland,  daughters  of  his  younger  sister  the  queen 
dowager  of  France  by  Charles  Brandon  duke  of  Suffolk ;  and 
failing  the  descendants  of  these  ladies  he  bequeathed  the  crown 
to  the  next  heir.  By  this  disposition  he  either  totally  excluded 
or  at  least  removed  from  their  rightful  place  his  eldest  and  still 
surviving  sister  the  queen-dow  ager  of  Scotland,  and  all  her  issue  ; 
— a  most  absurd  and  dangerous  indulgence  of  his  feelings  of 
enmity  against  the  Scottish  line,  which  might  eventually  have 
involved  the  nation  in  all  the  horrors  of  a  civil  war,  and  from 
which  in  fact  the  whole  calamitous  destinies  of  the  house  of 
Suffolk,  which  the  progress  of  this  work  w  ill  record,  and  in  some 
measure  also  the  long  misfortunes  of  the  queen  of  Scots  herself, 
will  be  found  to  draw  their  origin.  Sixteen  executors  named  in 
the  will  were  to  exercise  in  common  the  royal  functions  till 
young  Edward  should  attain  the  age  of  eighteen ;  and  to  these, 
twelve  others  were  added  as  a  council  of  regency,  invested  how- 
ever with  no  other  privilege  than  that  of  giving  their  opinions 
when  called  upon.  The  selection  of  the  executors  and  counsel- 
lors was  in  perfect  unison  with  the  policy  of  the  Tudors-  The 
great  officers  of  state  formed  of  necessity  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  former  body,  and  four  of  these,  lord  Wriothesley  the  chan- 
cellor, the  earl  of  Hertford  lord-chamberlain,  lord  St.  John 
master  of  the  household,  and  lord  Russel  privy-seal,  were  de- 
corated with  the  peerage;  but  with  the  exception  of  sir  John 
Dudley,  who  had  lately  acquired  by  marriage  the  rank  of  vis- 
count Lisle,  these  were  the  only  titled  men  of  the  sixteen.  Thus 
it  appeared,  that  not  a  single  individual  amongst  the  hereditary 
nobility  of  the  country  enjoyed  in  a  sufficient  degree  the  favour 
and  confidence  of  the  monarch,  to  be  associated  in  a  charge 
which  he  had  not  hesitated  to  confer  on  persons  of  no  higher 
importance  than  the  principal  gentlemen  of  the  bedchamber,  the 
treasurer  of  Calais,  and  the  dean  of  Canterbury. 

Even  the  council  reckoned  among  its  members  only  two  peers: 
one  of  them  the* brother  of  the  queen-dowager,  on  whom,  since 
the  fall  of  Cromwel,  the  title  of  earl  of  Essex  had  at  length  been 
conferred  in  right  of  his  wife,  the  heiress  of  the  Bourchiers  :  the 
other,  the  earl  of  Arundel,  premier  earl  of  England  and  last  of 
the  ancient  name  of  Fitzalan;  a  distinguifhed  nobleman,  whom 


38 


THE  COURT  OF 


vast  wealth,  elegant  tastes  acquired  in  foreign  travel,  and  a  spirit 
of  magnificence,  combined  to  render  one  of  the  principal  orna- 
ments of  the  court;  while  his  political  talents  and  experience  of 
affairs  qualified  him  to  assume  a  leading  station  in  the  cabinet. 
The  loyalty  and  prudence  of  the  Fitzalans  must  have  been  con- 
spicuous for  ages,  since  no  attainder,  during  so  long  a  period  ot 
greatness,  had  stained  the  honour  of  the  race  ;  and  the  moderation 
or  subserviency  of  the  present  earl  had  been  shown  by  his  per 
feet  acquiescence  in  all  the  measures  of  Henry,  notwithstanding 
his  private  preference  of  the  ancient  faith  :  to  crown  his  merits, 
his  blood  appears  to  have  been  unmingled  with  that  of  the  Plan- 
tagenets.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  the  king  had  thought  fit 
to  name  him  only  a  counsellor,  not  an  executor.  Arundel 
deeply  felt  the  injury ;  and  impatience  of  the  insignificance  to 
which  he  was  thus  consigned,  joined  to  his  disapprobation  of  the 
measures  of  the  regency  with  respect  to  religion,  threw  him  into 
intrigues  whicn  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  turbulence  of  this 
disastrous  period. 

It  was  doubtless  the  intention  of  Henry,  that  the  religion  of 
the  country,  at  least  during  the  minority  of  his  son,  should  be 
left  vibrating  on  the  same  nice  balance  between  protestantism 
and  popery  on  which  it  had  cost  him  so  much  pains  to  fix  it;  and 
with  a  view  to  this  object  he  had  originally  composed  the  regency 
with  a  pretty  equal  distribution  of  power  between  the  adhe- 
rents of  the  two  communions.  But  the  suspicion,  or  disgust, 
which  afterwards  caused  him  to  erase  the  name  of  Gardiner  from 
the  list,  destroyed  the  equipoise,  and  rendered  the  scale  of  refor- 
mation decidedly  preponderant.  In  vain  did  Wriothesley,  a 
man  of  vigourous  talents  and  aspiring  mind,  struggle  with  Hert- 
ford for  the  highest  place  in  the  administration ;  in  vain  did 
Tunstal  bishop  of  Durham, — no  bigot,  but  a  firm  papist, — check 
with  all  the  authority  that  he  could  venture  to  exert,  the  bold 
career  of  innovation  on  which  he  beheld  Cranmer  full  of  eager- 
ness to  enter ;  in  vain  did  the  catholics  invoke  to  their  aid  the 
active  interference  of  Dudley;  he  suffered  them  to  imagine  that 
his  heart  was  with  them,  and  that  he  watched  an  opportunity  to 
interpose  with  effect  in  their  behalf,  whilst,  in  fact,  he  was  only 
waiting  till  the  fall  of  one  of  the  Seymours  by  the  hand  of  the 
other  should  enable  him  to  crush  the  survivor,  and  rise  to  uncon- 
trolled authority  on  the  ruins  of  both. 

The  first  attempt  of  the  protestant  party  in  the  regency 
showed  their  intentions  ;  its  success  proved  their  strength,  and 
silenced  for  the  present  all  opposition.  It  was  proposed,  and 
carried  by  a  majroity  of  the  executors,  that  the  earl  of  Hertford 
should  be  declared  protector  of  the  realm,  and  governor  of  the 
king's  person ;  and  the  new  dictator  soon  after  procured  the  rati- 
fication of  this  appointment,  which  overturned  some  of  the  most 
important  clauses  of  the  late  king's  will,  by  causing  a  patent  to 
be  drawn  and  sanctioned  by  the  two  houses  which  invested  him, 
during  the  minority,  with  all  the  prerogatives  ever  assumed  by 
the  most  arbitrary  of*  the  English  sovereigns,  and  many  more 
than  were  ever  recognised  by  the  constitution. 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 


39 


As  if  in  compensation  for  any  disrespect  shown  to  the  memory 
of  fhe  deceased  monarch  by  these  proceedings,  the  executors 
next  declared  their  intention  of  fulfilling  certain  promises  made 
by  him  in  his  last  illness,  and  which  death  alone  had  prevented 
him  from  carrying  into  effect.  On  this  plea,  they  bestowed  upon 
themselves  and  their  adherents  var  ious  titles  of  honour,  and  a 
number  of  valuable  church  preferments,  now  first  conferred  upon 
laymen,  the  protector  himself  unblushingly  assuming  the  title  of 
duke  of  Somerset,  and  taking  possession  of  benefices  and  impro- 
priations to  a  vast  amount.  Viscount  Lisle  was  created  earl  of 
Warwick,  and  Wriothesley  became  earl  of  Southampton  ; — an 
empty  dignity,  which  afforded  him  little  consolation  for  seeing 
himself  soon  after,  on  pretence  of  some  irregular  proceedings  in 
his  oflice,  stripped  of  the  post  of  chancellor,  deprived  of  his 
place  amongst  the  other  executors  of  the  king,  who  now  formed 
a  privy  council  to  the  protector,  and  consigned  to  obscurity  and 
insignificance  for  the  short  remnant  of  his  days.  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour  ought  to  have  been  consoled  by  the  share  allotted  him 
in  this  splended  distribution,  for  the  mortification  of  having  been 
named  a  counsellor  only,  and  not  an  executor.  He  was  made 
lord  Seymour  of  Sudley,  and  soon  after,  lord  high-admiral — pre- 
ferments greatly  exceeding  any  expectations  which  his  birth  or 
his  services  to  the  state  could  properly  authorise.  But  he  mea- 
sured his  claims  by  his  nearness  to  the  king  ;  he  compared  these 
inferior  dignities  with  the  state  and  power  usurped  by  his  bro- 
ther, and  his  arrogant  spirit  disdained  as  a  meanness,  the  thought 
of  resting  satisfied  or  appeased.  Circumstances  soon  arose 
which  converted  this  general  feeling  of  discontent  in  the  mind 
of  Thomas  Seymour  into  a  more  rancorous  spirit  of  envy  and 
hostility  against  his  brother,  and  gradually  involved  him  in  a  suc- 
cession of  dark  intrigues,  which,  on  account  of  the  embarrassments 
and  dangers  in  which  they  eventually  implicated  the  princess 
Elizabeth,  it  will  now  become  necessary  to  unravel.  The  younger 
Seymour,  still  in  the  prime  of  life,  was  endowed  in  a  striking 
degree  with  those  graces  of  person  and  manner  which  serve  to 
captivate  the  female  heart,  and  his  ambition  had  sought  in  con- 
sequence to  avail  itself  of  a  splendid  marriage. 

It  is  said  that  the  princess  Mary  herself  was  at  first  the  object 
of  his  hopes' or  wishes  :  but  if  this  were  really  the  case,  she  must 
speedily  have  quelled  his  presumption  by  the  lofty  sternness  of 
her  repulse  ;  for  it  is  impossible  to  discover  in  the  history  of  his 
life  at  what  particular  period  he  could  have  been  occupied  with 
such  a  design. 

Immediately  after  the  death  of  Henry,  he  found  means  to  re- 
vive with  such  energy  in  the  bosom  of  the  queen  dowager,  an  at- 
tachment which  she  had  entertained  for  him  before  her  marriage 
with  the  king,  that  she  consented  to  become  his  wife  with  a  pre- 
cipitation highly  indecorous  and  reprehensible.  The  connexion 
proved  unfortunate  on  both  sides,  and  its  first  effect  was  to  em- 
broil him  with  his  brother. 

The  protector,  of  a  temper  still  weaker  than  his  not  very  vigo- 


40 


THE  COURT  OF 


rous  understanding,  had  long  allowed  himself  to  be  governed  both 
in  great  and  small  concerns  by  his  wife,  a  woman  of  little  princi- 
ple, and  of  a  disposition  in  the  highest  degree  violent,  imperious, 
and  insolent.    Nothing  could  be  more  insupportable  to  the  spirit 
of  this  lady,  who  prided  herself  on  her  descent  from  Thomas  of 
Woodstock,  and  now  saw  her  husband  governing  the  kingdom 
with  all  the  prerogatives  and  almost  all  the  splendour  of  royalty, 
than  to  find  herself  compelled  to  yield  precedency  to  the  wife  of 
his  younger  brother;  and  unable  to  submit  patiently  to  a  mortifi- 
cation from  which,  after  all,  there  was  no  escape,  she  could  not 
forbear  engaging  in  continual  disputes  on  the  subject  with  the 
queen  dowager.    Their  husbands  soon  were  drawn  in  to  take 
part  in  this  senseless  quarrel,  and  a  serious  difference  ensued 
between  them.    The  protector  and  council  soon  after  refused  to 
the  lord  admiral  certain  grants  of  land  and  valuable  jewels  which 
he  claimed  as  bequests  to  his  wife  from  the  late  king,  and  the, 
perhaps,  real  injury,  thus  added  to  the  slights  of  which  he  before 
complained,  gave  fresh  exasperation  to  the  pride  and  turbulence 
of  his  character. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  protector's  absence  on  that  campaign 
in  Scotland  which  ended  with  the  victory  of  Pinkey,  he  formed 
partisans  among  the  discontented  nobles,  won  from  his  brother 
the  affections  of  the  young  king,  and  believing  every  thing  ripe 
for  an  attack  on  his  usurped  authority,  he  designed  to  bring  for- 
ward in  the  ensuing  parliament  a  proposal  for  separating,  accord- 
ing to  ancient  precedent,  the  office  of  guardian  of  the  king's  per- 
son from  that  of  protector  of  the  realm,  and  for  conferring  upon 
himself  the  former.    But  he  discovered  too  late  that  he  had 
greatly  miscalculated  his  forces ;  his  proposal  was  not  even  per- 
mitted to  come  to  a  hearing.    Having  rendered  himself  further 
obnoxious  to  the  vengeance  of  the  administration  by  menaces 
thrown  out  in  the  rage  of  disappointment,  he  saw  himself  re- 
duced, in  order  to  escape  a  committal  to  the  Tower,  to  make 
submissions  to  his  brother.    An  apparent  reconciliation  took 
place;  and  the  admiral  was  compelled  to  change,  but  not  to  re- 
linquish, his  schemes  of  ambition. 

The  princess  Elizabeth  had  been  consigned  on  the  death  of 
her  father  to  the  protection  and  superintendance  of  the  queen 
dowager,  with  whom,  at  one  or  other  of  her  jointure-houses  of 
Chelsea  or  Hanworth,  she  usually  made  her  abode.  By  this 
means  it  happened,  that  after  the  queen's  re-marriage  she  found 
herself  domesticated  under  the  roof  of  the  lord  admiral ;  and  in 
this  situation  she  had  soon  the  misfortune  to  become  an  object  of 
his  marked  attention. 

What  were,  at  this  particular  period,  Seymour's  designs  upon 
the  princess,  is  uncertain ;  but  it  afterwards  appeared  from  the 
testimony  of  eye-witnesses,  that  neither  respect  for  her  exalted 
rank,  nor  a  sense  of  the  high  responsibility  attached  to  the  cha- 
racter of  a  guardian,  with  which  circumstances  invested  him,  had 
proved  sufficient  to  restrain  him  from  freedoms  of  behaviour  to- 
wards her,  wrhich  no  reasonable  allowance  for  the  comparative 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


41 


crossness  of  the  age  can  reduce  within  the  limits  of  propriety  or 
decorum.  We  learn  that,  oh  some  occasions  at  least,  she  endea- 
voured to  repel  his  presumption  by  such  expedients  as  her  youth- 
ful inexperience  suggested  ;  but  her  governess  and  attendants, 
gained  over  or  intimidated,  were  guilty  of  a  treacherous  or  cow- 
ardly neglect  of  duty,  and  the  queen  herself  appears  to  have 
been  very  deficient  in  delicacy  and  caution  till  circumstances 
arose  which  suddenly  excited  her  jealousy. *  A  violent  scene 
then  took  place  between  the  royal  step-mother  and  step-daugh- 
ter, which  ended,  fortunately  for  the  peace  and  honour  of  Eliza- 
beth, in  an  immediate  and  final  separation. 

There  is  no  ground  whatever  to  credit  the  popular  rumour 
that  the  queen,  who  died  in  childbed  soon  after  this  affair,  was 
poisoned  by  the  admiral ;  but  there  is  sufficient  proof  that  he  was 
a  harsh  and  jealous  husband ;  and  he  did  not  probably  at  this 
juncture  regard  as  unpropitious  on  the  whole,  an  event  which 
enabled  him  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  Elizabeth,  though  other  and 
more  intricate  designs  were  at  the  same  time  hatching  in  his 
busy  brain,  to  which  his  state  of  a  widower  seemed  at  first  to 
oppose  some  serious  obstacles. 

Lady  Jane  Grey,  eldest  daughter  of  the  marchioness  of  Dor- 
set, who  had  been  placed  immediately  after  the  two  princesses 
in  order  of  succession,  had  also  resided  in  the  house  of  the  lord- 
admiral  during  the  lifetime  of  the  queen-dowager,  and  he  was 
anxious  still  to  retain  in  his  hands  a  pledge  of  such  importance. 
To  the  applications  of  the  marquis  and  marchioness  for  her  re- 
turn, he  pleaded  that  the  young  lady  would  be  as  secure  under 
the  superintendance  of  his  mother,  whom  he  had  invited  to  re- 
side in  his  house,  as  formerly  under  that  of  the  queen,  and  that 
a  mark  of  the  esteem  of  friends  whom  he  so  highly  valued,  would 
in  this  season  of  his  affliction  be  doubly  precious  to  him.  He 
caused  a  secret  agent  to  insinuate  to  the  weak  marquis,  that  if 
the  lady  Jane  remained  under  his  roof,  it  might  eventually  be 
in  his  power  to  marry  her  to  the  young  king ;  and  finally,  as 
the  most  satisfactory  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  his  professions  of 
regard,  he  advanced  to  this  illustrious  peer  the  sum  of  five  hun- 
dred pounds  in  ready  money,  requiring  no  other  security  for  its 
repayment  than  the  person  of  his  fair  guest,  or  hostage.  Such 
eloquence  proved  irresistible  :  lady  Jane  was  suffered  to  remain 
undei  this  very  singular  and  improper  protection,  and  report  for 
some  time  vibrated  between  the  sister  and  the  cousin  of  the  king 
as  the  real  object  of  the  admiral's  matrimonial  projects.  But  in 
his  own  mind  there  appears  to  have  been  no  hesitation  between 
them.    The  residence  of  lady  Jane  in  his  house  was  no  other- 

*  It  seems  that  on  one  occasion  the  queen  held  the  hands  of  the  princess  while 
the  lord-ad miral  amused  himself  with  cutting  her  gown  to  shreds;  and  that,  on 
another  she  introduced  him  into  the  chamber  of  Elizabeth  before  she  had  left  her 
bed,  when  a  violent  romping  scene  took  place,  which  was  afterwards  repeated 
without  the  presence  of  the  queen. 

Catherine  was  so  ungarded  in  her  own  conduct,  that  the  lord-admiral  professed 
himself  jealous  of  the  servant  who  carried  up  coals  to  her  apartment, 

F 


THE  COURT  OF 


wise  of  importance  to  him,  than  as  it  contributed  to  insure  to 
him  the  support  of  her  father,  and  as  it  enabled  him  to  counter- 
act a  favourite  scheme  of  the  protector's,  or  rather  of  his  duch- 
ess's, for  marrying  her  to  their  eldest  son.  With  Elizabeth,  or 
the  contrary,  he  certainly  aimed  at  the  closest  of  all  connexions, 
and  he  was  intent  on  improving  by  every  means  the  impression 
which  his  dangerous  powers  of  insinuation  had  already  made  on 
her  inexperienced  heart. 

Mrs.  Ashley,  her  governess,  he  had  long  since  secured  in  his 
interests  ;  his  next  step  was  to  gain  one  Parry,  her  cofferer,  and 
through  these  agents  he  proposed  to  open  a  direct  correspond- 
ence with  herself.  His  designs  prospered  for  some  time  ac- 
cording to  his  desires  ;  and  though  it  seems  never  to  have  been 
exactly  known,  except  to  the  parties  themselves,  what  degree  of 
secret  intelligence  Elizabeth  maintained  with  her  suitor ;  it 
cannot  be  doubted  that  she  betrayed  towards  him  sentiments 
sufficiently  favourable  to  render  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  that 
consent  of  the  royal  executors  which  the  law  required,  the  prin- 
cipal obstacle,  in  his  own  opinion,  to  the  accomplishment  of  his 
wishes.  It  was  one,  however,  which  appeared  absolutely  insu 
perable  so  long  as  his  brother  continued  to  preside  over  the  ad- 
ministration with  authority  not  to  be  resisted  ;  and  despair  of 
gaining  his  object  by  fair  and  peaceful  means,  soon  suggest 
ed  to  the  admiral  further  measures  of  a  dark  and  dangerous  cha 
racter. 

By  the  whole  order  of  nobility,  the  protector,  who  affected  the 
love  of  the  commons,  was  envied  and  hated  ;  but  his  brother, 
on  the  contrary,  had  cultivated  their  friendship  with  assiduity 
and  success ;  and  he  now  took  opportunities  of  emphatically 
recommending  it  to  his  principal  adherents,  the  marquis  of 
Northampton  (late  earl  of  Essex,)  the  marquis  of  Dorset,  the 
earl  of  Rutland,  and  others,  to  go  into  their  counties  and  "make 
all  the  strength"  there  which  they  could.  He  boasted  of  the 
command  of  men  which  he  derived  from  his  office  of  high-admi- 
ral ;  provided  a  large  quantity  of  arms  for  his  followers ;  and 
gained  over  the  master  of  Bristol  mint  to  take  measures  for  sup^ 
plying  him,  on  any  sudden  emergency,  with  a  large  sum  of 
money.  He  likewise  opened  a  secret  correspondence  with  the 
young  king,  and  endeavoured  by  many  accusations,  true  or  false, 
to  render  odious  the  government  of  his  brother.  But  happily 
those  turbulent  dispositions  and  inordinate  desires  which  prompt 
men  to  form  plots  dangerous  to  the  peace  and  welfare  of  a  com- 
community,  are  rarely  found  to  co-exist  with  the  sagacity  and 
prudence  necessary  to  conduct  them  to  a  successful  issue ;  and 
to  this  remark  the  admiral  was  not  destined  to  afford  an  excep- 
tion. Though  he  ought  to  have  been  perfectly  aware  that  hi* 
late  attempt  had  rendered  him  an  object  of  the  strongest  suspi- 
cion to  his  brother,  and  that  he  was  surrounded  by  his  spies, 
such  was  the  violence  and  presumption  of  his  temper,  that  he 
could  not  restrain  himself  from  throwing  out  vaunts  and  menaces 
which  served  to  put  his  enemies  on  the  track  of  the  most  im- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


43 


portant  discoveries  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  vain  schemes  and  flat- 
tering anticipations,  he  was  surprised  on  the  sudden  by  a  war- 
rant lor  his  committal  to  the  Tower.  His  principal  agents  were 
also  seized,  and  compelled  to  give  evidence  before  the  council. 
Still  the  protector  seemed  reluctant  to  proceed  to  extremities 
against  his  brother  ;  but  his  own  impetuous  temper  and  the  ill 
offices  of  the  earl  of  Warwick  conspired  to  urge  on  his  fate. 

Far  from  submitting  himself  as  before  to  the  indulgence  of  the 
protector,  and  seeking  to  disarm  his  indignation  by  promises 
and  entreaties,  Seymour  now  stood,  as  it  were,  at  bay,  and  bold- 
ly demanded  a  fair  and  equal  trial, — the  birth  right  of  English- 
men. But  this  was  a  boon  which  it  was  esteemed  on  several 
accounts  inexpedient,  if  not  dangerous,  to  grant.  No  overt  act 
of  treason  could  be  proved  against  him :  circumstances  might 
come  out  which  would  compromise  the  young  king  himself,  whom 
a  strong  dislike  of  the  restraint  in  which  he  was  held  by  his  el- 
der uncle  had  thrown  pretty  decidedly  into  the  party  of  the 
younger.  The  name  01  the  lady  Elizabeth  was  implicated  in 
the  transaction  further  than  it  was  delicate  to  declare.  An  ac- 
quittal, which  the  far-extended  influence  of  the  lord -admiral 
over  all  classes  of  men  rendered  by  no  means  impossible,  would 
probably  be  the  ruin  of  the  protector ; — and  in  the  end  it  was 
decided  to  proceed  against  him  by  the  arbitrary  and  odious  me- 
thod of  attainder. 

Several  of  those  peers,  on  whose  support  he  had  placed  the 
firmest  reliance,  rose  voluntarily  in  their  places,  and  betrayed 
the  designs  which  he  had  confided  to  them.  The  depositions 
before  the  council  were  declared  sufficient  ground  for  his  con- 
demnation ;  and  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  some  spirited  and 
upright  members  of  the  house  of  commons,  a  sentence  was  pro- 
nounced, in  obedience  to  which,  in  March  1549,  he  was  conduct- 
ed to  the  scaffold. 

The  timely  removal  of  this  bad  and  dangerous  man,  however 
illegal*  and  unwarrantable  the  means  by  which  it  was  accom- 
plished, deserves  to  be  regarded  as  the  first  of  those  signal  es- 
capes with  which  the  life  of  Elizabeth  so  remarkably  abounds. 
Her  attachment  for  Seymour,  certainly  the  earliest,  was  perhaps 
also  the  strongest,  impression  of  the  tender  kind  which  her 
heart  was  destined  to  receive  ;  and  though  there  may  be  a  pro- 
bability that  in  this,  as  in  subsequent  instances,  where  her  in- 
clinations seemed  most  to  favour  the  wishes  of  her  suitors,  her 
characteristic  caution  would  have  interfered  to  withhold  her  from 
an  irrevocable  engagement,  it  might  not  much  longer  have  been 
in  her  power  to  recede  with  honour,  or  even,  if  the  designs  of 
Seymour  had  prospered,  with  safety. 

The  original  pieces  relative  to  this  affair  have  fortunately  been 
preserved,  and  furnish  some  very  remarkable  traits  of  the  early 
character  of  Elizabeth,  and  of  the  behaviour  of  those  about  her. 

The  confessions  of  Mrs.  Ashley  and  of  Parry  before  the  privy- 
council,  contain  all  that  is  known  of  the  conduct  of  the  admiral 
towards  their  lady  during  the  lifetime  of  the  queen.  They 


44 


THE  COURT  OF 


seem  to  cast  upon  Mrs.  Ashley  the  double  imputation  of  having 
suffered  such  behaviour  to  pass  before  her  eyes  as  she  ought  not 
to  have  endured  for  a  moment,  and  of  having  needlessly  dis- 
closed to  Parry  particulars  respecting  it  which  reflected  the  ut- 
most disgrace  both  on  herself,  the  admiral,  and  her  pupil.  Yet 
we  know  that  Elizabeth,  so  far  from  resenting  any  thing  that 
Mrs.  Ashley  had  either  done  or  confessed,  continued  to  love  and 
favour  her  in  the  highest  degree,  and  after  her  accession  pro- 
moted her  husband  to  a  considerable  office  : — a  circumstance 
which  affords  ground  for  suspicion  that  some  important  secrets 
were  in  her  possession  respecting  later  transactions  between  the 
princess  and  Seymour  which  she  had  faithfully  kept.  It  should 
also  be  observed  in  palliation  of  the  liberties  which  she  accused 
the  admiral  of  allowing  to  himself,  and  the  princess  of  enduring, 
that  the  period  of  Elizabeth's  life  to  which  these  particulars  re- 
late was  only  her  fourteenth  year. 

We  are  told  that  she  refused  permission  to  the  admiral  to 
visit  her  after  he  became  a  widower,  on  account  of  the  general 
report  that  she  was  likely  to  become  his  wife ;  and  not  the 
slightest  trace  was  at  this  time  found  of  any  correspondence  be^ 
tween  them,  though  Harrington  afterwards  underwent  an  impri- 
sonment for  having  delivered  to  her  a  letter  from  the  admiral. 
Yet  it  is  stated  that  the  partiality  of  the  young  princess  betrayed 
itself  by  many  involuntary  tokens  to  those  around  her,  who  were 
thus  encouraged  to  entertain  her  with  accounts  of  the  admiral's 
attachment,  and  to  inquire  whether,  if  the  consent  of  the  council 
could  be  obtained,  she  would  consent  to  admit  his  addresses. 
The  admiral  is  represented  to  have  proceeded  with  caution 
equal  to  her  own.  Anxious  to  ascertain  her  sentiments,  earnestly 
desirous  to  accomplish  so  splendid  an  union,  but  fully  sensible 
of  the  inutility  as  well  as  danger  of  a  clandestine  connection,  he 
may  be  thought  rather  to  have  regarded  her  hand  as  the  recom- 
pense which  awaited  the  success  of  all  his  other  plans  of  ambition, 
than  as  the  means  of  obtaining  that  success ;  and  it  seemed  to 
have  been  only  by  distant  hints  through  the  agents  whom  he 
trusted,  that  he  had  ventured  as  yet  to  intimate  to  her  his  views 
and  wishes ;  but  it  is  probable  that  much  of  the  truth  was  by 
these  agents  suppressed. 

The  protector,  rather,  as  it  seems,  with  the  desire  of  crimi- 
nating  his  brother  than  of  clearing  the  princess,  sent  sir  Robert 
Tyrwhitt,  to  her  residence  at  Hatfield,  empowered  to  examine 
her  on  the  whole  matter ;  and  his  letters  to  his  employer  inform 
us  of  many  particulars.  When,  by  the  base  expedient  of  a  coun- 
terfeit letter,  he  had  brought  her  to  believe  that  both  Mrs.  Ash- 
ley and  Parry  were  committed  to  the  Tower,  "  her  grace  was." 
as  he  expresses  it,  "  marvellously  abashed,  and  did  weep  very 
tenderly  a  long  time,  demanding  whether  they  had  confessed  any 
thing  or  not."  Soon  after,  sending  for  him,  she  related  several 
circumstances  which  she  said  she  had  forgotten  to  mention  when 
the  master  of  the  household  and  master  Denny  came  from  the 
protector  to  examine  her.    "  After  all  this,"  adds  he,  "  I  did  re- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


45 


quire  her  to  consider  her  honour,  and  the  peril  that  might  ensue, 
for  she  was  but  a  subject;  and  I  further  declared  what  a  woman 
Mrs.  Ashley  was,  with  a  long  circumstance,  saying  that  if  she 
would  open  all  things  herself,  that  all  the  evil  and  shame  should 
be  ascribed  to  them,  and  her  youth  considered  both  with  the 
king's  majesty,  your  grace,  and  the  whole  council.  But  in  no 
way  she  will  hot  confess  any  practice  by  Mrs.  Ashley  or  the* 
cofferer  concerning  my  lord -admiral ;  and  yet  I  do  see  it  in  her 
tace  that  she  is  guilty,'  and  do  perceive  as  yet  that  she  will  abide 
mo  storms  or  she  accuse  Mrs.  Ashley. 

•  Upon  sudden  news  that  my  lord  great-master  and  master  Den- 
♦  ny  was  arrived  at  the  gate,  the  cofferer  went  hastily  to  his  cham- 
ber, and  said  to  my  lady  his  wife,  'I  would  I  had  never  been  born, 
for  I  am  undone,'  and  wrung  his  hands,  and  castaway  his  chain 
from  his  neck,  and  his  rings  from  his  fingers.  This  is  confessed 
by  his  own  servant,  and  there  is  divers  witnesses  of  the  same." 

The  following  day  Tyrwhitt  writes,  that  all  he  has  yet  gotten 
from  the  princess  was  by 'gentle  persuasion,  whereby  he  began  to 
grow  with  her  in  credit,  "  for  I  do  assure  your  grace  she  hath  a 
good  wit,  and  nothing  is  gotten  off  her  but  by  great  policy." 

A  few  days  after,  he  expresses  to  the  protector  his  opinion 
that  there  had  been  some  secret  promise  between  the  princess, 
Mrs.  Ashley,  and  the  cofferer,  never  to  confess  till  deatn  ;  "  and 
if  it  be  so,"  he  observes,  "  it  will  never  be  gotten  of  her  but 
either  by  the  king's  majesty  or  else  by  your  grace."  On  another 
occasion  he  confirms  this  idea  by  stating  that  he  had  tried  her 
with  false  intelligence  of  Parry's  having  confessed,  on  which  she 
called  him  "  false  wretch,"-  and  said  that  it  was  a  great  matter 
for  him  to  make  such  a  promise  and  break  it.  He  notices  the 
exact  agreement  between  the  princess  and  the  other  two  in  all 
their  statements,  but  represents  it  as  a  proof  that  M  they  had  set 
the  knot  before."  It  appears  on  the  whole,  that  sir  Robert  with 
all  his  pains  was  not  able  to  elicit  a  single  fact  of  decisive  im- 
portance ;  but  probably  there  was  somewhat  more  in  the  matter 
than  we  find  acknowledged  in  a  letter  from  Elizabeth  herself  to 
the  protector.  She  here  states,  that  she  did  indeed  send  her 
cofferer  to  speak  with  the  lord -admiral,  but  on  no  other  business 
than  to  recommend  to  him  one  of  her  chaplains,  and  to  request 
him  to  use  his  interest  that  she  might  have  Durham  Place  for  her 
town  house  ;  that  Parry  on  his  return  informed  her,  that  the  ad- 
miral said  she  could  not  have  Durham  Place,  which  was  wanted 
for  a  mint,  but  offered  her  his  own  house  for  the  time  of  her  be- 
ing in  London  ;  and  that  Parry  then  inquired  of  her,  whether,  if 
the  council  would  consent  to  her  marrying  the  admiral,  she  would 
herself  be  willing?  That  she  refused  to  answer  this  question, 
requiring  to  know  who  bade  him  ask  it.  He  said,  No  one ;  but 
from  the  admiral's  inquiries  what  she  spent  in  her  house,  and 
whether  she  had  gotten  her  patents  for  certain  lands  signed,  and 
other  questions  of  a  similar  nature,  he  thought  "  that  he  was 
given  that  way  rather  than  otherwise."  She  explicitly  denies 
that  her  governess  ever  advised  her  to  marry  the  admiral  with- 


THE  COURT  OF 


out  the  consent  of  the  council ;  but  relates  with  great  ap* 
parent  ingenuousness,  the  hints  which  Mrs.  Ashley  had  thrown 
out  of  his  attachment  to  her,  and  the  artful  attempts  which  she 
had  made  to  discover  how  her  pupil  stood  affected  towards  such 
a  connection. 

The  letter  concludes  with  the  following  wise  and  spirited  as- 
sertion of  herself.  "  Master  Tyrwhitt  and  others  have  told  me, 
that  there  goeth  rumours  abroad  which  be  greatly  both  against 
my  honour  and  honesty,  (which  above  all  things  I  esteem)  which 
be  these ;  that  I  am  in  the  Tower,  and  with  child  by  my  lord  ad- 
miral. My  lord,  these  are  shameful  slanders,  for  the  which,  be- 
sides the  desire  I  have  to  see  the  king's  majesty,  I  shall  most 
humbly  desire  your  lordship  that  1  may  come  to  the  court  after 
your  first  determination,  that  I  may  show  myself  there  as  I  am." 

That  the  cofferer  had  repeated  his  visits  to  the  admiral  oftener 
than  was  at  first  acknowledged  either  by  his  lady  or  himself,  a 
confession  afterwards  addressed  by  Elizabeth  to  the  protector 
seems  to  show  ;  but  even  with  this  confession  Tyrwhitt  declares 
himself  unsatisfied. 

Parry,  in  that  part  of  his  confession  where  he  relates  what 
passed  between  himself  and  the  lord-admiral  when  he  waited 
upon  him  by  his  lady's  command,  takes  notice  of  the  earnest 
manner  in  which  the  admiral  had  urged  her  endeavouring  to 
procure,  by  way  of  exchange,  certain  crown  lands  which  had 
been  the  queen's,  and  seem  to  have  been  adjacent  to  his  own, 
from  which,  he  says,  he  inferred,  that  he  wanted  to  have  both 
them  and  his  lady  for  himself.  He  adds,  that  the  admiral  said 
he  wished  the  princess  to  go  to  the  duchess  of  Somerset,  and  by 
her  means  make  suit  to  the  protector  for  the  lands,  and  for  a 
town  house,  and  "  to  entertain  her  grace  for  her  furtherance." 
That  when  he  repeated  this  to  her,  Elizabeth  would  not  at  first 
believe  that  he  had  said  such  words,  or  could  wish  her  so  to  do ; 
but  on  his  declaring  that  it  was  true,  "she  seemed  to  be  angry 
that  she  should  be  driven  to  make  such  suits,  and  said,  *  In  faith 
I  will  not  come  there,  nor  begin  to  flatter  now.' 99 

Her  spirit  broke  out,  according  to  Tyrwhitt,  with  still  greater 
vehemence,  on  the  removal  'of  Mrs.  Ashley,  whom  lady  Tyrwhitt 
succeeded  in  her  office : — the  following  is  the  account  which  he 
gives  of  her  behaviour.  • 

*'  Pleaseth  it  your  grace  to  be  advertised,  that  after  my  wife's 
repair  hither,  she  declared  to  the  lady  Elizabeth's  grace,  that 
she  was  called  before  your  grace  and  the  council  and  had  a  re- 
buke, that  she  had  not  taken  upon  her  the  office  to  see  her  well 
governed,  in  the  lieu  of  Mrs.  Ashley.  Her  answer  was,  that  Mrs. 
Ashley  was  her  mistress,  and  that  she  had  not  so  demeaned  her- 
self that  the  council  should  now  need  to  put  any  mo  mistresses 
unto  her.  Whereunto  my  wife  answered,  seeing  she  did 
allow  Mrs.  Ashley  to  be  her  mistress,  she  need  not  to  be 
ashamed  to  have  any  honest  woman  to  be  in  that  place.  She 
took  the  matter  so  heavily  that  she  wept  all  that  night  and 
lowered  all  the  next  day,  till  she  received  your  letter ;  and  then 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


74 


sent  for  me  and  asked  me  whether  she  was  best  to  write  to 
you  again  or  not:  I  said,  if  she  would  make  answer  that  she 
would  follow  the  effect  of  your  letter,  I  thought  it  well  done  that 
six*  should  w  rite  ;  but  in  the  end  of  the  matter  I  perceived  thai 
she  was  xwy  loth  to  have  a  governor ;  and  to  avoid  the  same, 
said  (lie  world  would  note  her  to  be  a  great  offender,  having  so 
hastily  a  governor  appointed  her.  And  all  is  no  more,  she  fully 
hopes  to  recover  her  old  mistress  again.  The  love  she  yet  bear  - 
eth  her  is  to  be  wondered  at.  I  told  her,  if  she  would  consider 
her  honour  and  the  sequel  thereof,  she  would,  considering  her 
years,  make  suit  to  your  grace  to  have  one,  rather  than  to  make 
delay  to  be  without  one  one  hour.  She  cannot  digest  such  advice 
in  no  way;  but  if  I  should  say  my  phantasy,  it  were  more  meet  she 
should  have  two  than  one.  She  would  in  any  wise  write  to  your 
grace,  wherein  I  offered  her  my  advice,  which  she  would  in  no 
wise  follow,  but  write  her  own  phantasy.  She  beginneth  now  a 
little  to  droop,  by  reason  she  heareth  that  my  lord -admiral's 
houses  be  dispersed.  And  my  wife  telleth  me  now,  that  she 
cannot  hear  him  discommended  but  she  is  ready  to  make  answer 
therein  :  and  so  she  hath  not  been  accustomed  to  do,  unless  Mrs. 
Ashley  were  touched,  whereunto  she  was  very  ready  to  make 
answer  vehemently."  &c.  * 

Parry  had  probably  the  same  merit  of  fidelity  as  Mrs,  Ashley ; 
for  though  Tyrwhitt  says  he  was  found  faulty  in  his  accounts, 
he  was  not  only  continued  at  this  time  by  his  mistress  in  his  of- 
fice of  cofferer,  but  raised  afterwards  to  that  of  comptroller  of 
the  royal  household,  which  he  held  till  his  death. 

A  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Harrington,  then  in  the  admiral's 
service,  who  was  much  examined  respecting  his  master's  inter- 
course with  the  princess,  and  revealed  nothing,  was  subsequently 
taken  by  her  into  her  own  household  and  highly  favoured  ;  and 
so  certain  did  this  gentleman,  who  was  a  man  of  parts,  account 
himself  of  her  tenderness  for  the  memory  of  a  lover  snatched 
from  her  by  the  hand  of  violence  alone,  that  he  ventured,  several 
years  after  her  accession  to  the  throne,  to  present  her  with  a 
portrait  of  him,  under  which  was  inscribed  the  following  sonnet- 

"  Of  person  rare,  strong  limbs  and  manly  shape, 

By  nature  framed  to  serve  on  sea  or  land  : 

In  friendship  firm  in  good  state  or  ill  hap, 
•  In  peace  head-wise,  in  war,  skill  great,  bold  hand. 

Or  horse  or  foot,  in  peril  or  in  play, 

"Noje  could  excel,  though  many  did  e9say. 

A  subject  true  to  king,  a  servant  great, 

Friend  to  God's  truth,  and  foe  to  Rome's  deceit. 

Sumptuous  abroad  for  honour  of  the  land, 

Temp'rate  at  home,  yet  kept  great  state  with  stay., 

And  noble  house  that  fed  more  mouths  with  meal 

Than  some  advanced  on  higher  steps  to  stand  ; 

Yet  against  nature,  reason,  and  just  laws, 

His  blood  was  spilt,  guiltless,  without  just  cause." 


*  For  the  original  documents  relative  to  this  affair  see  Burleigh  Papers  by 
Haynes,  passim 


48 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  fall  of  Seymour,  and  the  disgrace  and  danger  in  which, 
she  had  herself  been  involved,  afforded  to  Elizabeth  a  severe  but 
useful  lesson  ;  and  the  almost  total  silence  of  history  respecting 
her  during  the  remainder  of  her  brother's  reign  affords  satisfac- 
tory indication  of  the  extreme  caution  with  which  she  now  con 
ducted  herself. 

This  silence,  however,  is  agreeably  supplied  by  documents  of 
a  more  private  nature,  which  inform  us  of  her  studies,  her  acquire- 
ments, the  disposition  of  her  time,  and  the  bent  of  her  youthful 
mind. 

The  Latin  letters  of  her  learned  preceptor  Roger  Ascham 
abound  with  anecdotes  of  a  pupil  in  whose  proficiency  he  justly 
gloried ;  and  the  particulars  interspersed  respecting  other  fe- 
males of  high  rank,  also  distinguished  by  the  cultivation  of  clas- 
sical literature,  enhance  the  interest  of  the  picture,  by  affording 
objects  of  comparison  to  the  principal  figure,  and  illustrating  the 
taste,  almost  the  rage,  for  learning  which  pervaded  the  court  of 
Edward  VI. 

"Writing  in  1550  to  his  friend  John  Sturmius,  the  worthy  and 
erudite  rector  of  the  protestant  university  of  Strasburg,  Ascham 
has  the  following  passages. 

"  Never  was  the  nobility  of  England  more  lettered  than  at 
present.  Our  illustrious  king  Edward  in  talent,  industry,  perse- 
verance, and  erudition,  surpasses  both  his  own  years  and  the  be* 
lief  of  men  *  *  *  *  I  doubt  not  that  France  will  also  yield  the  just 
praise  of  learning  to  the  duke  of  Suffolk  *  and  the  rest  of  that 
band  of  noble  youths  educated  with  the  king  in  Greek  and  Latia 
literature,  who  depart  for  that  country  on  this  very  day. 

"  Numberless  honourable  ladies  of  the  present  time  surpass 
the  daughters  of  sir  Thomas  More  in  every  kind  of  learning.  But 
amongst  them  all,  my  illustrious  mistress  the  lady  Elizabeth 
shines  like  a  star,  excelling  them  more  by  the  splendour  of  her 
virtues  and  her  learning,  than  by  the  glory  of  her  royal  birth.  In 
the  variety  of  her  commendable  qualities,  I  am  less  perplexed 
to  find  matter  for  the  highest  panegyric  than  to  circumscribe  that 
panegyric  within  just  bounds.  Yet  I  shall  mention  nothing  re  - 
specting her  but  what  has  come  under  my  own  observation. 

"  For  two  years  she  pursued  the  study  of  Greek  and  Latin 
under  my  tuition ;  but  the  foundations  of  her  knowlede  in  both 
languages  were  laid  by  the  diligent  instruction  of  William 
Grindal,  my  late  beloved  friend  and  seven  years  my  pupil  in 
classical  learning  at  Cambridge.  From  this  university  he  was 
summoned  by  John  Cheke  to  court,  where  he  soon  after  received 
the  appointment  of  tutor  to  this  lady.  After  some  years,  when 
through  her  native  genius,  aided  by  the  efforts  of  so  excellent  a 
master,  she  had  made  a  great  progress  in  learning,  and  Grindal, 
by  his  merit  and  the  favour  of  his  mistress,  might  have  aspired 
to  high  dignities,  he  was  snatched  away  by  a  sudden  illness,  leav- 

*  This  was  the  second  duke  of  the  narae  of  Brandon,,  who  died  young  of  the 

fiweating  sksknes1;. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


49 


ing  a  greater  miss  of  himself  in  the  court,  than  I  remember  any 
other  to  have  done  these  many  years. 

"  I  was  appointed  to  succeed  him  in  his  office  ;  and  the  work 
which  he  had  so  happily  begun,  without  my  assistance  indeed,  but 
not  without  some  counsels  of  mine,  I  diligently  laboured  to  com- 
plete. Now,  however,  released  from  the  throng  of  a  court,  and 
restored  to  the  felicity  of  my  former  learned  leisure,  I  enjoy, 
through  the  bounty  of  the  king,  an  honourable  appointment  in 
this  university. 

"  The  lady  Elizabeth  has  accomplished  her  sixteenth  year ; 
and  so  much  solidity  of  understanding,  such  courtesy  united  with 
dignity,  have  never  been  observed  at  so  early  an  age.  She  has 
the  most  ardent  love  of  true  religion  and  of  the  best  kind  of  lite- 
rature. The  constitution  of  her  mind  is  exempt  from  female 
weakness,  and  she  is  endued  with  a  masculine  power  of  applica- 
tion. No  apprehension  can  be  quicker  than  her's,  no  memory 
more  retentive.  French  and  Italian  she  speaks  like  English ; 
Latin,  with  fluency,  propriety,  and  judgement ;  she  also  spoke 
Greek  with  me,  frequently,  willingly,  and  moderately  well.  No- 
thing can  be  more  elegant  than  her  handwriting,  whether  in  the 
Greek  or  Roman  character.  In  music  she  was  very  skilful,  but 
does  not  greatly  delight.  With  respect  to  personal  decoration, 
she  greatly  prefers  a  simple  elegance  to  show  and  splendour,  so 
despising  *  the  outward  adorning  of  plaiting  the  hair  and  of  wear- 
ing of  gold;'  that  in  the  whole  manner  of  her  life  she  rather  re- 
sembles Hippolyta  than  Phaedra. 

"  She  read  with  me  almost  the  whole  of  Cicero,  and  a  great 
part  of  Livy :  from  these  two  authors,  indeed,  her  knowledge  of 
the  Latin  language  has  been  almost  exclusively  derived.  The  be- 
ginning of  the  day  was  always  devoted  by  her  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  Greek,  after  which  she  read  select  orations  of  Isocrates 
and  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles,  which  I  judged  best  adapted  to 
supply  her  tongue  with  the  purest  diction,  her  mind  with  the 
most  excellent  precepts,  and  her  exalted  station  with  a  defence 
against  the  utmost  power  of  fortune.  For  her  religious  instruc- 
tion, she  drew  first  from  the  fountains  of  Scripture,  and  after- 
wards from  St.  Cyprian,  the  '  Common  places'  of  Melancthon, 
and  similar  works  which  convey  pure  doctrine  in  elegant  lan- 
guage. In  every  kind  of  writing  she  easily  detected  any  ill  - 
adapted  or  far-fetched  expression.  She  could  not  bear  those 
feeble  imitators  of  Erasmus  who  bind  the  Latin  language  in  the 
fetters  of  miserable  proverbs  ;  on  the  other  hand,  she  approved 
a  style  chaste  in  its  propriety,  and  beautiful  by  perspicuity,  and 
she  greatly  admired  metaphors,  when  not  too  violent,  and  anti- 
theses when  just,  and  happily  opposed.  By  a  diligent  attention 
to  these  particulars,  her  ears  became  so  practised  and  so  nice, 
that  there  was  nothing  in  Greek,  Latin,  or  English,  prose  or 
verse,  which,  according  to  its  merits  or  defects,  she  did  not 
either  reject  with  disgust,  or  receive  with  the  highest  delight 
*  *  *  *  *  Had  I  more  leisure,  I  would  speak  to  you  at  greater 
length  of  the  king,  of  the  lady  Elizabeth,  and  of  the  daughter' 


50 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  the  duke  of  Somerset,  whose  minds  have  also  been  formed  by 
the  best  literary  instruction.  But  there  are  two  English  ladies 
whom  I  cannot  omit  to  mention  ;  nor  would  I  have  you,  my 
Sturmius,  omit  them,  if  you  meditate  any  celebration  of  your 
English  friends,  than  which  nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to 
me.  One  is  Jane  Grey  *,  the  other  is  Mildred  Cecil,  who  under- 
stands  aud  speaks  Greek  like  English,  so  that  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  she  is  most  happy  in  the  possession  of  this  surpassing 
degree  of  knowledge,  or  m  having  had  for  her  preceptor  and  fa- 
ther sir  Anthony  Coke,  whose  singular  erudition  caused  him  to 
be  joined  with  John  Cheke  in  the  office  of  tutor  to  the  king,  or 
finally,  in  having  become  the  wife  of  William  Cecil,  lately  ap- 
pointed secretary  of  state ;  a  young  man  indeed,  but  mature  in 
wisdom,  and  so  deeply  skilled  both  in  letters  and  in  affairs,  and 
endued  with  such  moderation  in  the  exercise  of  public  offices, 
that  to  him  would  be  awarded  by  the  consenting  voice  of  English- 
men the  four-fold  praise  attributed  to  Pericles  by  his  rival  Thu- 
cydides — '  To  know  all  that  is  fitting,  to  be  able  to  apply  what 
he  knows,  to  be  a  lover  of  his  country,  and  superior  to  money.'" 
The  learned,  excellent  and  unfortunate  Jane  Grey  is  repeated- 
ly mentioned  by  this  writer  with  warm  and  merited  eulogium. 
He  relates  to  Sturmius,  that  in  the  month  of  August  1550,  taking 
his  journey  from  Yorkshire  to  the  court,  he  had  deviated  from 
his  course  to  visit  the  family  of  the  marquis  of  Dorset  at  his  seat 
of  Broadgate  in  Leicestershire.  Lady  Jane  was  alone  at  his  ar- 
rival, the  rest  of  the  family  being  on  a  hunting  party ;  and  gain- 
ing admission  to  her  apartment,  he  found  her  reading  by  herself 
the  Phsedo  of  Plato  in  the  original,  which  she  understood  so  per- 
fectly as  to  excite  in  him  extreme  wonder ;  for  she  was  at  this 
time  under  fifteen  years  of  age.  She  also  possessed  the  power 
of  speaking  and  writing  Greek,  and  she  willingly  promised  to 
address  to  him  a  letter  in  this  language.  In  his  English  work 
'  The  School -master,'  referring  again  to  this  interview  with  Jane 
Grey,  Ascham  adds  the  following  curious  and  affecting  particu- 
lars. Having  asked  her  how  at  her  age  she  could  have  attained 
to  such  perfection  both  in  philosophy  and  Greek,  "  I  will  tell 
you,"  said  she,  "  and  tell  you  a  truth,  which  perchance  you  will 
marvel  at.  One  of  the  greatest  benefits  that  ever  God  gave  me 
is,  that  he  sent  me  so  sharp  and  severe  parents,  and  so  gentle  a 
schoolmaster.  For  when  I  am  in  presence  either  of  father  or 
mother,  whether  I  speak,  keep  silence,  sit,  stand,  or  go ;  eat, 
drink,  be  merry  or  sad ;  be  sewing,  playing,  dancing,  or  doing 
any  thing  else,  I  must  do  it,  as  it  were,  in  such  weight,  measure, 
and  number,  even  so  perfectly,  as  God  made  the  world,  or  else 
I  am  so  sharply  taunted,  so  cruelly  threatened,  yea  presently 
sometimes  with  pinches,  nips,  and  bobs  and  other  ways  which  1 
will  not  name,  for  the  honour  I  bear  them,  so  without  measure 
misordered,  that  I  think  myself  in  hell,  till  time  come  that  I  must 

*  This  lady  is  commemorated  at  greater  length  in  another  place,  and  therefore 
a  clause  is  here  omitted. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


51 


go  to  Mr.  Elmer,  who  teacheth  me  so  gently,  so  pleasantly,  with 
such  fair  allurements  to  learning,  that  1  think  all  the  time  no- 
thing while  1  am  with  him.  And  when  I  am  culled  from  him  1 
fall  on  weeping,  because  whatsoever  else  I  do  but  learning,  is 
full  of  grief,  trouble,  fear,  and  whole  misliking  unto  me.  And 
thus  my  book  hath  been  so  much  my  pleasure  and  bringeth  daily 
to  me  more  pleasure  and  more,  that  in  repect  of  it,  all  other 
pleasures,  in  very  deed,  be  but  trifles  and  troubles  unto  me." 

The  epistles  from  which  the  extracts  in  the  preceding  pages 
are  with  some  abridgement  translated,  and  which  are  said  to  be 
the  first  collection  ot  private  letters  ever  published  by  any  Eng- 
lishman, were  all  written  during  the  year  1550,  when  Ascham, 
on  some  disgust,  had  quitted  the  court  and  returned  to  his  situ- 
ation of  Greek  reader  at  Cambridge  ;  and  perhaps  the  eulo- 
giums  here  bestowed,  in  epistles  which  his  correspondent  lost  no 
time  in  committing  to  the  press,  were  not  composed  without  the 
secret  hope  of  their  procuring  for  him  a  restoration  to  that  court 
life  which  it  seems  difficult  even  for  the  learned  to  quit  without 
a  sigh.  It  would  be  unjust,  however,  to  regard  Ascham  in  the 
light  of  a  flatterer ;  for  his  praises  are  in  most  points  corrobo- 
rated by  the  evidence  of  history,  or  by  other  concurring  testi- 
monies. His  observations,  for  instance,  on  the  modest  simpli- 
city of  Elizabeth's  dress  and  appearance  at  this  early  period  of 
her  life,  which  might  be  received  with  some  incredulity  by  the 
reader  to  whom  instances  are  familiar  of  her  inordinate  love  of 
dress  at  a  much  more  advanced  age,  and  when  the  cares  of  a 
sovereign  ought  to  have  left  no  room  for  a'  vanity  so  puerile,  re- 
ceive strong  confirmation  from  another  and  very  respectable  au- 
thority. 

Dr.  Elmer  or  Aylmer,  who  was  tutor  to  lady  Jane  Grey  and 
her  sisters,  and  became  afterwards,  during  Elizabeth's  reign, 
bishop  of  London,  thus  draws  her  character  when  young,  in  a 
work  entitled  "  A  Harbour  for  faithful  Subjects."  "The  king 
left  her  rich  cloaths  and  jewels  ;  and  I  know  it  to  be  true,  that 
in  seven  years  after  her  father's  death,  she  never  in  all  that  time 
looked  upon  that  rich  attire  and  precious  jewels  but  once,  and 
that  against  her  will.  And  that  there  never  came  gold  or  stone 
upon  her  head,  till  her  sister  forced  her  to  lay  off  her  former  so- 
berness, and  bear  her  company  in  her  glittering  gayness.  And 
then  she  so  wore  it,  as  every  man  might  see  that  her  body  carried 
that  which  her  heart  misliked.  I  am  sure  that  her  maidenly  ap- 
parel which  she  used  in  King  Edward's  time,  made  the  no- 
blemen's daughters  and  wives  to  be  ashamed  to  be  dressed  and 
painted  like  peacocks  ;  being  more  moved  with  her  most  virtuous 
example  than  with  all  that  ever  Paul  or  Peter  wrote  touching 
that  matter.  Yea,  this  I  know,  that  a  great  man's  daughter  (lady 
Jane  Grey)  receiving  from  lady  Mary  before  she  was  queen,  good 
apparel  of  tinsel,  cloth  of  gold  and  velvet,  laid  on  with  parch- 
ment lace  of  gold,  when  she  saw  it,  said  *  What  shall  I  do  with 
it  ?'  'Mary,'  said  a  gentlewoman,  '  wear  it.'  «  Nay,'  quoth  she, 
1  that  were  a  shame,  to  follow  my  lady  Mary  against  God's 

LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  llUW 


52 


THE  COURT  OF 


word,  and  leave  my  lady  Elizabeth  which  followeth  God's 
word.'  And  when  all  the  ladies  at  the  coming  of  the  Scots 
queen  dowager,  Mary  of  Guise,  (she  who  visited  England  in 
Edward's  time,)  went  with  their  hair  frownsed,  curled,  and 
double  curled,  she  altered  nothing,  but  kept  her  old  maidenly 
shamefacedness."  This  extract  may  be  regarded  as  particularly 
curious,  as  an  exemplification  of  the  rigid  turn  of  sentiment 
whicli  prevailed  at  the  court  of  young  Edward,  and  of  the  de- 
gree in  which  Elizabeth  conformed  herself  to  it.  There  is  a  print 
from  a  portrait  of  her  when  young,  in  which  the  hair  is  without  a 
single  ornament  and  the  whole  dress  remarkably  simple. 

But  to  return  to  Ascham. — The  qualifications  of  this  learned 
man  as  a  writer  of  classical  Latin  recommended  him  to  queen 
Mary,  notwithstanding  his  known  attachment  to  the  protestant 
faith,  in  the  capacity  of  Latin  secretary  ;  and  it  was  in  the  year 
1555,  while  holding  this  station,  that  he  resumed  his  lessons  to 
his  illustrious  pupil. 

"The  lady  Elizabeth  and  I,"  writes  he  to  Sturmius,  "are 
reading  together  in  Greek  the  Orations  of  iEschines  and  De- 
mosthenes. She  reads  before  ine,  and  at  first  sight  she  so  learn- 
edly comprehends  not  only  the  idiom  of  the  language  and  the 
meaning  of  the  orator,  but  the  whole  grounds  of  contention,  the 
decrees  of  the  people,  and  the  customs  and  manners  of  the  Athe- 
nians, as  you  would  greatly  wonder  to  hear." 

Under  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  Ascham  retained  his  post  of 
Latin  secretary,  and  was  admitted  to  considerable  intimacy  by 
his  royal  mistress.  Addressing  Sturmius  he  says,  "  I  received 
your  last  letters  on  the  15th  of  January  1560.  Two  passages  in 
them,  one  relative  to  the  Scotch  affairs,  the  other  on  the  marriage 
of  the  queen,  induced  me  to  give  them  to  herself  to  read.  She 
remarked  and  graciously  acknowledged  in  both  of  them  your 
respectful  observance  of  her.  Your  judgment  in  the  affairs  of 
Scotland,  as  they  then  stood,  she  highly  approved,  and  she  loves 
you  for  your  solicitude  respecting  us  and  our  concerns.  The 
part  respecting  her  marriage  she  read  over  thrice,  as  I  well  re- 
member, and  with  somewhat  of  a  gentle  smile ;  but  still  preserving 
a  modest  and  bashful  silence. 

"  Concerning  that  point  indeed,  my  Sturmius,  I  have  nothing 
certain  to  write  to  you,  nor  does  any  one  truly  know  what  to 
judge.  1  told  you  rightly,  in  one  of  my  former  letters,  that  in 
the  whole  ordinance  of  her  life  she  resembled  not  Pheedra  but 
Hippolyta  ;  for  by  nature,  and  not  by  the  counsels  of  others,  she 
is  thus  averse  and  abstinent  from  marriage.  When  I  know  any 
thing  for  certain,  I  w  ill  write  it  to  you  as  soon  as  possible ;  in 
the  mean  time  1  have  no  hopes  to  give  you  respecting  the  king 
of  Sweden." 

In  the  same  letter,  after  enlarging,  somewhat  too  rhetorically 
perhaps,  on  the  praises  of  the  queen  and  her  government,  Ascham 
recurs  to  his  favourite  theme — her  learning ;  and  roundly  as- 
serts, that  there  were  not  four  men  in  England,  distinguished 
either  in  the  church  or  the  state,  who  understood  more  Greek 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


5S 


than  her  majesty  :  and  as  an  instance  of  her  proficiency  in  other 
tongues,  he  mentions  that  he  was  once  present  at  court  when 
she  gave  answers  at  the  same  time  to  three  ambassadors,  the  Im- 
perial, the  French,  and  the  Swedish,  in  Italian,  in  French  and  in 
Latin ;  and  all  this,  fluently,  without  confusion,  and  to  the  purpose. 

A  short  epistle  from  queen  Elizabeth  to  Sturmius,  which  is  in- 
serted in  this  collection,  appears  to  refer  to  that  of  Sturmius  which 
Ascham  answers  above.  She  addresses  him  as  her  beloved  friend, 
expresses  in  the  handsomest  terms  her  sense  of  the  attachment 
towards  herself  and  her  country  evinced  by  so  eminent  a  culti- 
vator of  genuine  learning  and  true  religion,  and  promises  that 
her  acknowledgments  shall  not  be  confined  to  words  alone ; 
but  for  a  further  explanation  of  her  intentions  she  refers  him  to  the 
bearer ;  consequently  we  have  no  data  for  estimating  the  actual 
pecuniary  value  of  these  warm  expressions  of  royal  favour  and 
friendship.  But  we  have  good  proof,  unfortunately,  that  no  mu- 
nificent act  of  Elizabeth's  ever  interposed  to  rescue  her  zealous 
and  admiring  preceptor  from  the  embarrassments  into  which  he 
was  plunged,  probably  indeed  by  his  own  imprudent  habits,  but 
certainly  by  no  faults  which  ought  to  have  deprived  him  of  his 
just  claims  on  the  purse  of  a  mistress  whom  he  had  served  with 
so  much  ability,  and  with  such  distinguished  advantage  to  herself. 
The  other  learned  females  of  this  age  whom  Ascham  has  com- 
plimented by  addressing  them  in  Latin  epistles,  are,  Anne  coun- 
tess of  Pembroke,  sister  of  queen  Catherine  Parr  ;  a  young  lady 
of  the  name  of  Vaughan  ;  Jane  Grey  ;  and  Mrs.  Clark,  a  grand 
daughter  of  sir  Thomas  More,  by  his  favourite  daughter  Mrs. 
Roper.  In  his  letter  to  this  last  lady,  written  during  the  reign 
of  Mary,  after  congratulating  her  on  her  cultivation,  amid  the 
luxury  and  dissipation  of  a  court,  of  studies  worthy  the  descend- 
ant of  a  man  whose  high  qualities  had  enobled  England  in  the 
estimation  of  foreign  nations,  he  proceeds  to  mention,  that  he  is 
the  person  whom,  several  years  ago,  her  excellent  mother  had  re- 
quested to  undertake  the  instruction  of  all  her  children  in  Greek 
and  Latin  literature.  At  that  time,  he  says,  no  offer  could  tempt 
him  to  quit  his  learned  retirement  at  Cambridge,  and  he  was 
reluctantly  compelled  to  decline  the  proposal ;  but  being  now 
once  more  established  at  court,  he  freely  offers  to  a  lady  whose 
accomplishments  he  so  much  admires,  any  assistance  in  her 
laudable  pursuits  which  it  may  be  in  his  power  to  afford. 

A  few  more  scattered  notices  may  be  collected  relative  to  this 
period  of  the  life  of  Elizabeth.  Her  talents,  her  vivacity,  her 
proficiency  in  those  classical  studies  to  which  he  was  himself 
addicted,  and  especially  the  attachment  which  she  manifested  to 
the  reformed  religion,  endeared  her  exceedingly  to  the  young 
king  her  brother,  who  was  wont  to  call  her, — perhaps  with  re- 
ference to  the  sobriety  of  dress  and  manners  by  which  she  was 
then  distinguished, — his  sweet  sister  Temperance.  On  her  part  ' 
his  affection  was  met  by  every  demonstration  of  sisterly  tender- 
ness, joined  to  those  delicate  attentions  and  respectful  observ* 
ances  which  his  rank  required. 


I 


J4 


THE  COURT  OF 


It  was  probably  about  1550  that  she  addressed  to  him  the 
following  letter  on  his  having  desired  her  picture,  which  affords 
perhaps  the  most  favourable  specimen  extant  of  her  youthful 
style. 

*«  Like  as  the  rich  man  that  daily  gathereth  riches  to  riches, 
and  to  one  bag  of  money  liyeth  a  great  sort  till  it  come  to  infi- 
nite :  so  methinks  your  majesty,  not  being  sufficed  with  so  many 
benefits  and  gentleness  shewed  to  me  afore  this  time,  doth  now 
increase  them  in  asking  and  desiring  where  you  may  bid  and 
command  ;  requiring  a  thing  not  worthy  the  desiring  for  itself, 
but  made  worthy  for  your  highness'  request.  My  picture  I 
mean :  in  which,  if  the  inward  good  mind  toward  your  grace 
might  as  well  be  declared,  as  the  outward  face  and  countenance 
shall  be  seen,  I  would  not  have  tarried  the  commandment  but 
prevented  it,  nor  have  been  the  last  to  grant  but  the  first  to 
offer  it.  For  the  face  I  grant  I  might  well  blush  to  offer,  but 
the  mind  I  shall  never  be  ashamed  to  present.  But  though  from 
the  grace  of  the  picture  the  colours  may  fade  by  time,  may  give 
by  weather,  may  be  spited  by  chance ;  yet  the  other,  nor  time 
with  her  swift  wings  shall  overtake,  or  the  misty  clouds  with 
their  lowering  may  darken,  nor  chance  with  her  slippery  foot 
may  overthrow. 

"  Of  this  also  yet  the  proof  could  not  be  great,  because  the 
occasions  have  been  so  small ;  notwithstanding,  as  a  dog  hath  a 
day,  so  may  I  perchance  have  time  to  declare  it  in  deeds,  which 
now  I  do  write  them  but  in  words.  And  further,  I  shall  humbly 
beseech  your  majesty,  that  when  you  shall  look  on  my  picture, 
you  will  witsafe  to  think,  that  as  you  have  but  the  outward  sha- 
dow of  the  body  afore  you,  so  my  inward  mind  wisheth  that  the 
body  itself  were  oftener  in  your  presence.  Howbeit  because 
both  my  so  being  I  think  could  do  your  majesty  little  pleasure, 
though  myself  great  good ;  and  again,  because  I  see  not  as  yet 
the  time  agreeing  thereunto,  I  shall  learn  to  follow  this  saying 
of  Horace,  '  Feras,  non  cidpes,  quod  vitari  non  potest?  And  thus 
I  will  (troubling  your  majesty  I  fear)  end  with  my  most  humble 
thanks  ;  beseeching  God  long  to  preserve  you  to  his  honour,  to 
your  comfort,  to  the  realms  profit,  and  to  my  joy. 
(From  Hatfield  this  15th  day  of  May.)' 

Your  majesty's  most  humble  sister  and  servant, 

Elizabeth." 

An  exact  memorialist*  has  preserved  an  instance  of  the  high 
consideration  now  enjoyed  by  Elizabeth  in  the  following  passage, 
which  is  further  curious  as  an  instance  of  the  state  which  she 
already  assumed  in  her  public  appearances.  "  March  17th  (1551.) 
The  lady  Elizabeth,  the  king's  sister,  rode  through  London  unto 
St.  James's,  the  king's  palace,  with  a  great  company  of  lords, 
knights,  and  gentlemen;  and  after  her  a  great  company  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen  on  horse-back,  about  two  hundred.  On  the  19th 
she  came  from  St.  James's  through  the  park  to  the  court ;  the 

*  Strype. 

t  AT 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


55 


way  from  the  park  gate  unto  the  court  spread  with  fine  sand. 
She  was  attended  with  a  very  honourable  confluence  of  noble 
and  worshipful  persons  of  both  sexes,  and  received  with  much 
ceremony  at  the  court  gate." 

The  ensuing  letter,  however,  seems  to  intimate  that  there  were 
those  about  the  young  king  who  envied  her  these  tokens  of  favour 
and  credit,  and  were  sometimes  but  too  successful  in  estranging 
her  from  the  royal  presence,  and  perhaps  in  exciting  prejudices 
against  her : — It  is  unfortunately  without  date  of  year. 

"  The  princess  Elizabeth  to  king  Edward  VI. 

"  Like  as  a  shipman  in  stormy  weather  plucks  down  the  sails 
tarrying  for  better  wind,  so  did  I,  most  noble  king,  in  my  un- 
fortunate chance  a  Thursday  pluck  down  the  high  sails  of  my 
joy  and  comfort;  and  do  trust  one  day,  that  as  troublesome 
waves  have  repulsed  me  backward,  so  a  gentle  wind  will  bring 
me  forward  to  my  haven.  Two  chief  occasions  moved  me  much 
and  grieved  me  greatly :  the  one,  for  that  I  doubted  your  ma- 
jesty's health ;  the  other,  because  for  all  my  long  tarrying,  I 
went  without  that  I  came  for.  Of  the  first  I  am  relieved  in  a 
part,  both  that  I  understood  of  your  health,  and  also  that  your 
majesty's  lodging  is  far  from  my  lord  marques'  chamber :  of 
my  other  grief  I  am  not  eased ;  but  the  best  is,  that  whatsoever 
other  folks  will  suspect,  I  intend  not  to  fear  your  grace's  good 
will,  which  as  I  know  that  I  never  deserved  to  faint,  so  I  trust 
will  stick  by  me.  For  if  your  grace's  advice  that  I  should  re- 
turn, (whose  will  is  a  commandment)  had  not  been,  I  would  not 
have  made  the  half  of  my  way  the  end  of  my  journey. 

"And  thus  as  one  desirous  to  hear  of  your  majesty's  health, 
though  unfortunate  to  see  it,  I  shall  pray  God  to  preserve  you. 
(From  Hatfield  this  present  Saturday.) 

"  Your  majesty's  humble  sister  to  commandment, 

Elizabeth." 


■  i 


56 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  V. 

1549  to  1553. 

Decline  of  the  protector's  authority. — He  is  imprisoned — accused  oj 
misdemeanors — loses  his  office — is  liberated — reconciled  with 
Dudley,  who  succeeds  to  his  authority. — Dudley  pushes  on  the 
reformation. — The  celebration  of  mass  prohibited. — Princess 
Mary  persecuted. — The  emperor  attempts  to  get  her  out  of  the 
kingdom,  but  without  success — interferes  openly  in  her  behalf 
Effect  of  persecution  on  the  mind  of  Mary. — Marriage  proposed 

for  Elizabeth  with  the  prince  of  Denmark. — She  declines  i/.— 
King  betrothed  to  a  princess  of  France. — Sweating  sickness. — 
Death  of  the  duke  of  Suffolk. — Dudley  procures  that  title  for  the 
marquis  of  Dorset,  and  the  dukedom  of  Northumberland  for 
himself. — Particulars  of  the  last  earl  of  Northumberland. — 
Trial,  conviction,  and  death  of  the  duke  of  Somerset. — Christmas 

festivities  of  the  young  king. —Account  of  George  Ferrers,  mas- 
ter of  the  king' s  pastimes  and  his  works. —  Views  of  Northum- 
berland.— Decline  of  the  king's  health. — Scheme  of  Northum- 
berlandfor  Lady  Jane  Grey's  succession. — TJiree  marriages  con- 
trived by  him  for  this  purpose. — He  procures  a  settlement  of  the 
crown  on  Lady  Jane. — Subserviency  of  the  council. — Death  of 
Edward  concealed  by  Northumberland. — The  princesses  nar- 
rowly escape  falling  into  his  hands — Courageous  conduct  of 
Elizabeth. — Northumberland  deserted  by  the  council  and  the 
army. — Jane  Grey  imprisoned. — Northumberland  arrested. — 
Mary  mounts  the  throne. 

IT  was  to  little  purpose  that  the  protector  had  stained  his 
hands  with  the  blood  of  his  brother,  for  the  exemption  thus  pur- 
chased from  one  kind  of  fear  or  danger,  was  attended  by  a  degree 
of  public  odium  which  could  not  fail  to  render  feeble  and  totter- 
ing an  authority  based,  like  his,  on  a  plain  and  open  usurpation. 

Other  causes  conspired  to  undermine  his  credit  and  prepare  hi9 
overthrow.  The  hatred  of  the  great  nobles,  which  he  augmented 
by  a  somewhat  too  ostentatious  patronage  of  the  lower  classes 
against  the  rich  and  powerful,  continually  pursued  and  watched 
the  opportunity  to  ruin  him.  Financial  difficulties  pressed  upon 
him,  occasioned  in  great  measure  by  the  wars  with  France  and 
Scotland  which  he  had  carried  on,  in  pursuance  of  Henry's  de- 
sign of  compelling  the  Scotch  to  marry  their  young  queen  to  his 
son ;  an  object  which  had  finally  been  frustrated,  notwithstand- 
ing the  vigilance  of  the  English  fleet,  by  the  safe  arrival  of  Mary 
in  France,  and  her  solemn  betrothment  to  the  dauphin.  The  great 
and  glorious  work  of  religious  reformation,  though  followed  by 
Somerset,  under  the  guidance  of  Cranmer,  with  a  moderation  and 
prudence  which  reflect  the  highest  honour  on  both,  could  not  be 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


57 


brought  to  perfection  without  exciting  the  rancorous  hostility  of 
thousands,  whom  various  motives  and  interests  attached  to  the 
cause  of  ancient  superstition  ;  and  the  abolition,  by  authority,  of 
the  mass,  and  the  destruction  of  images  and  crucifixes,  had  given 
birth  to  serious  disturbances  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 
The  want  and  oppression  under  .which  the  lower  orders  groaned, 
— and  which  they  attributed  partly  to  the  suppression  of  the  mo- 
nasteries to  which  they  had  been  accustomed  to  resort  for  the 
supply  of  their  necessities,  partly  to  a  general  inclosure  bill  ex- 
tremely cruel  and  arbitrary  in  its  provisions, — excited  commo- 
tions still  more  violent  and  alarming.  In  order  to  suppress  the 
insurrection  in  Norfolk,  headed  by  K.ett,  it  had  at  length  been 
found  necessary  to  send  thither  a  large  body  of  troops  under  the 
earl  of  Warwick,  who  had  acquired  a  very  formidable  degree  of 
celebrity  by  the  courage  and  conduct  which  he  exhibited  in  bring- 
ing this  difficult  enterprise  to  a  successful  termination. 

A  party  was  now  formed  in  the  council,  of  which  Warwick, 
Southampton,  Arundel,  and  St.  John,  were  the  chiefs  ;  and  strong 
resolutions  were  entered  into  against  the  assumed  authority  of 
the  protector.  This  unfortunate  man,  whom  an  inconsiderate 
ambition,  fostered  by  circumstances  favourable  to  its  success,  had 
pushed  forward  into  a  station  equally  above  his  talents  and  his 
birth,  was  now  found  destitute  of  all  the  resources  of  courage 
and  genius  which  might  yet  have  retrieved  his  authority  and  his 
credit.  He  suffered  himself  to  be  surprised  into  acts  indicative 
of  weakness  and  dismay,  which  soon  robbed  him  of  his  remain- 
ing partisans,  and  gave  to  his  enemies  all  the  advantage  which 
they  desired. 

His  committal  to  the  tower  on  several  charges,  of  which  his 
assumption  of  the  whole  authority  of  the  state  was  the  principal, 
soon  followed.  A  short  time  after  he  was  deprived  of  his  high 
office,  which  was  nominally  vested  in  six  members  of  the  coun- 
cil, but  really  in  the  earl  of  Warwick,  whose  pri  vate  ambition 
seems  to  have  been  the  main  spring  of  the  whole  intrigue,  and 
who  thus  became,  almost  without  a  struggle,  undisputed  master 
of  the  king  and  kingdom. 

That  poorness  of  spirit  which  had  sunk  the  duke  of  Somerset 
into  insignificance,  saved  him  at  present  from  further  mischief. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  ensuing  year,  1550,  having  on  his  knees 
confessed  himself  guilty  of  all  the  matters  laid  to  his  charge, 
without  reservation  or  exception,  and  humbly  submitted  himself 
to  the  king's  mercy,  he  was  condemned  in  a  heavy  fine,  on  re- 
mission 01  which  by  the  king  he  was  liberated.  Soon  after,  by 
the  special  favour  of  his  royal  nephew,  he  was  re -admitted  into 
the  council ;  and  a  reconciliation  was  mediated  for  him  with 
Warwick,  cemented  by  a  marriage  between  one  of  his  daughters 
and  the  son  and  heir  of  this  aspiring  leader. 

The  Catholic  party  which  had  flattered  itself  that  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  from  gratitude  for  the  support  which  some  of  its  lead- 
ers had  afforded  him,  and  perhaps  also  from  principle,  no  less 
than  from  opposition  to  the  duke  of  Somerset,  would  be  led  t« 

H 


m  A 


THE  COURT  OF 


embrace  its  defence,  was  now  destined  to  deplore  its  disappoint- 
ment. 

Determined  to  rule  alone,  he  soon  shook  off  his  able  but  too 
aspiring  colleague,  the  earl  of  Southampton,  and  disgraced,  by 
the  imposition  of  a  fine  for  some  alleged  embezzlement  of  pub- 
lic money,  the  earl  of  Arundel,  also  a  known  assertor  of  the  an- 
cient faith.  Finally,  having  observed  how  closely  the  principles 
of  protestantism,  which  Edward  had  derived  from  instructors 
equally  learned  and  zealous,  had  interwoven  themselves  with  the 
whole  texture  and  fabric  of  his  mind,  he  resolved  to  merit  the 
lasting  attachment  to  the  royal  minor  by  assisting  him  to  com- 
plete the  overthrow  of  popery  in  England. 

A  confession  of  faith  was  now  drawn  up  by  commissioners  ap- 
pointed for  the  purpose,  and  various  alterations  were  made  in  the 
Liturgy,  which  had  already  been  translated  into  the  vulgar  tongue 
for  church  use.  Tests  were  imposed,  which  Gardiner,  Bonner, 
and  several  others  of  the  bishops  felt  themselves  called  upon  by 
conscience,  or  a  regard  to  their  own  reputation,  to  decline  sub- 
scribing, even  at  the  price  of  deprivation  ;  and  prodigious  devas- 
tations were  made  by  the  courtiers  on  the  property  of  the  church. 
To  perform,  or  assist  at  the  performance,  of  the  mass  was  also 
rendered  highly  penal.  But  no  dread  of  legal  animadversion  was 
capable  of  deterring  the  lady  Mary  from  the  observance  of  this 
essential  rite  of  her  religion ;  and  finding  herself  and  her  house- 
hold exposed  to  serious  inconveniences  on  account  of  their  in- 
fraction of  the  new  statute,  she  applied  for  protection  to  her  po- 
tent kinsman,  the  emperor  Charles  V.,  who  is  said  to  have  under- 
taken her  rescue  by  means  which  could  scarcely  have  failed  t© 
involve  him  in  a  war  with  England.  By  his  orders,  or  conniv- 
ance, certain  ships  were  prepared  in  the  ports  of  Flanders,  man- 
ned and  armed  for  an  attempt  to  carry  off  the  princess  either  by 
stealth  or  open  force,  and  land  her  at  Antwerp.  In  furtherance 
of  the  design,  several  of  her  gentlemen  had  already  taken  their 
departure  for  that  city,  and  Flemish  light  vessels  were  observed 
to  keep  watch  on  the  English  coast.  But  by  these  appearances 
the  apprehensions  of  the  council  were  awakened,  and  a  sudden 
journey  of  the  princess  from  Hunsdon,  in  Hertfordshire,  towards 
Norfolk,  for  which  she  was  unable  to  assign  a  satisfactory  reason, 
served  as  strong  confirmation  of  their  suspicions. 

A  violent  alarm  was  immediately  sounded  through  the  nation, 
of  foreign  invasion  designed  to  co-operate  with  seditions  at  home ; 
bodies  of  troops  were  dispatched  to  protect  different  points  of  the. 
coast ;  and  several  ships  of  war  were  equipped  for  se*a  ;  while  a 
communication  on  the  subject  was  made  by  the  council  to  the  no- 
bility throughout  the  kingdom,  in  terms  calculated  to  awaken  in- 
dignation against  the  persecuted  princess,  and  all  who  were  sus- 
pected, justly  or  unjustly,  of  regarding  her  cause  with  favour.  A 
few  extracts  from  this  paper  will  exhibit  the  fierce  and  jealous 
spirit  of  that  administration  of  which  Dudley  formed  the  soul. 

"  So  it  is,  that  the  lady  Mary,  not  many  days  past,  removed 
from  Newhall  in  Essex  to  her  house  of  Hunsdon  in  Hertford- 


4 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


shire,  the  cause  whereof,  although  we  knew  not,  yet  did  we  ra- 
ther think  it  likely  that  her  grace  would  have  come  to  have  seen 
his  majesty ;  but  now,  upon  Tuesday  last,  she  hath  suddenly,  with- 
out knowledge  given  either  to  us  here  or  to  the  country  there,  and 
without  any  cause  in  the  world  by  us  to  her  given,  taken  her  jour- 
ney from  Hunsdon  towards  Norfolk,"  &c.  "  This  her  doing  we 
be  sorry  for,  both  for  the  evil  opinion  the  king's  majesty,  our  mas- 
ter, may  conceive  thereby  of  her,  and  for  that  by  the  same  doth 
appear  manifestly  the  malicious  rancour  of  such  as  provoke  her 
thus  to  breed  and  stir  up,  as  much  as  in  her  and  them  lieth,  oc- 
casion of  disorder  and  unquiet  in  the  realm,"  &c.  "  It  is  not  un- 
known to  us,  but  some  near  about  the  said  lady  Mary,  have  very 
lately  in  the  night  seasons  had  privy  conferences  with  the  empe- 
ror's ambassador  here  being,  which  councils  can  no  wise  tend  to 
the  weal  of  the  king's  majesty,  our  master,  or  his  realm,  nor  to 
the  nobility  of  this  realm.  And  whatsoever  the  lady  Mary  shall, 
upon  investigation  of  these  forward  practices  further  do,  like  to 
these  her  strange  beginnings,  we  doubt  not  but  your  lordship  will 
provide  that  her  proceedings  shall  not  move  any  disobedience  or 
disorder — The  effect  whereof,  if  her  counsellors  should  procure, 
as  it  must  be  to  her  grace,  and  to  all  other  good  Englishmen  there- 
in seduced,  damnable,  so  shall  it  be  most  hurtful  to  the  good  sub- 
jects of  the  country,"  &c* 

Thus  did  the  fears,  the  policy,  or  the  party-spirit,  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  council  lead  them  to  magnify  the  peril  of  the  nation 
from  the  enterprises  of  a  young  and  defenceless  female,  whose 
best  friend  was  a  foreign  prince,  whose  person  was  completely 
within  their  power,  and  who,  at  this  period  of  her  life  "  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning,"  was  not  even  suspected  of  any  other  design 
than  that  of  withdrawing  herself  from  a  country  in  which  she  was 
no  longer  allowed  to  worship  God  according  to  her  conscience. 
Some  slight  tumults  in  Essex  and  Kent,  in  which  she  was  not 
even  charged  with  any  participation,  were  speedily  suppressed ; 
and  after  some  conference  with  the  chancellor  and  secretary 
Petre,  Mary  obeyed  a  summons  to  attend  them  to  the  court, 
where  she  was  now  to  be  detained  for  greater  security. 

On  her  arrival  she  received  a  reprimand  from  the  council  for 
her  obstinacy  respecting  the  mass,  with  an  injunction  to  instruct 
herself,  by  reading,  in  the  grounds  of  protestant  belief.  To  this 
she  replied,  with  the  inflexible  resolution  of  her  character,  that 
as  to  protestant  books,  she  thanked  God  that  she  never  had  read 
any,  and  never  intended  so  to  do ;  that  for  her  religion  she  was 
ready  to  lay  down  her  life,  and  only  feared  that  she  might  not 
be  found  worthy  to  become  its  martyr.  One  of  her  chaplains 
was  soon  after  thrown  into  prison ;  and  further  severities  seemed 
to  await  her,  when  a  message  from  the  emperor,  menacing  the 
country  with  war  in  case  she  should  be  debarred  from  the  free 
exercise  of  her  religion,  taught  the  council  the  expediency  of  re- 
laxing a  little  the  sternness  of  their  intolerance.    But  the  scru- 

*  Burleigh  Papers  by  Haynes. 


THE  COURT  OF 


pies  of  the  zealous  young  king  on  this  head  could  not  be  brought 
to  yield  to  reasons  of  state,  till  he  had  "  advised  with  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  and  the  bishops  of  London  and  Rochester, 
who  gave  their  opinion  that  to  give  licence  to  sin  was  sin,  but  to 
connive  at  sin  might  be  allowed  in  case  it  were  neither  long,  nor 
without  hope  of  reformation  ."* 

By  this  prudent  and  humane  but  somewhat  Jesuitical  decision 
this  perplexing  affair  was  set  at  rest  for  the  present ;  and  during 
the  small  remainder  of  her  brother's  reign,  a  negative  kind  of 
persecution,  consisting  in  disfavour,  obloquy,  and  neglect,  was 
all,  apparently,  that  the  lady  Mary  was  called  upon  to  undergo. 
But  she  had  already  endured  enough  to  sour  her  temper,  to  ag- 
gravate with  feelings  of  personal  animosity  her  systematic  ab- 
horrence of  what  she  deemed  impious  heresy,  and  to  bind  to  her 
heart  by  fresh  and  stronger  ties  that  cherished  faith,  in  defence 
of  which  she  was  proudly  conscious  of  having  struggled  and  suf- 
fered with  a  lofty  and  unyielding  intrepidity. 

In  order  to  counterbalance  the  threatened  hostility  of  Spain, 
and  impose  an  additional  check  on  the  catholic  party  at  home,  it 
was  now  judged  expedient  for  the  king  to  strengthen  himself  by 
an  alliance  with  Christian  III.  king  of  Denmark ;  an  able  and 
enlightened  prince,  who  in  the  early  part  of  his  reign  had  op- 
posed with  vigour  the  aggressions  of  the  emperor  Charles  V.  on 
the  independence  of  the  north  of  Europe,  and  more  recently  had 
acquired  the  respect  of  the  whole  protestant  body  by  establish- 
N  ing  the  reformation  in  his  dominions.  An  agent  was  accordingly 
dispatched  with  a  secret  commission  to  sound  the  inclinations  of 
the  court  of  Copenhagen  towards  a  marriage  between  the  prince 
royal  and  the  lady  Elizabeth. 

That  this  negotiation  proved  fruitless,  was  apparently  owing  to 
the  reluctance  to  the  connection  manifested  by  Elizabeth;  of 
whom  it  is  observable,  that  she  never  could  be  prevailed  upon  to 
afford  the  smallest  encouragement  to  the  addresses  of  any  foreign 
prince  whilst  she  herself  was  still  a  subject;  well  aware  that  to 
accept  of  an  alliance  which  would  carry  her  out  of  the  kingdom, 
was  to  hazard  the  loss  of  her  succession  to  the  English  crown,  a 
splendid  reversion  never  absent  from  her  aspiring  thoughts. 

Disappointed  in  this  design,  Edward  lost  no  time  in  pledging 
his  own  hand  to  the  infant  daughter  of  Henry  II.  of  France, 
which  contract  he  did  not  live  to  complete. 

The  splendid  French  embassy  which  arrived  in  England  dur- 
ing the  year  1550  to  make  arrangements  respecting  the  dower  of 
the  princess,  and  to  confer  on  her  intended  spouse  the  order  of 
St.  Michael,  was  received  with  high  honours,  but  found  the  court 
festivities  damped  by  a  visitation  of  that  strange  and  terrific 
malady  the  sweating  sickness. 

This  pestilence,  first  brought  into  the  island  by  the  foreign  mer- 
cenaries who  composed  the  army  of  the  earl  of  Richmond,  after- 
wards Henry  VIL,  now  made  its  appearance  for  the  fourth  and 


*  Hayward'a  life  of  Edward  VI. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


61 


last  time  in  our  annals.  It  seized  principally,  it  is  said,  on 
males,  on  such  as  were  in  the  prime  of  their  age,  and  rather  on 
the  higher  than  the  lower  classes :  within  the  space  of  twenty- 
four  hours  the  fate  of  the  sufferer  was  decided  for  life  or  death. 
Its  ravages  were  prodigious  ;  and  the  general  consternation  was 
augmented  by  a  superstitious  idea  which  went  forth,  that  Eng- 
lishmen alone  were  the  destined  victims  of  this  mysterious  minis 
ter  of  fate,  which  tracked  their  steps,  with  the  malice  and  saga- 
city of  an  evil  spirit,  into  every  distant  country  of  the  earth  whi- 
ther they  might  have  wandered,  whilst  it  left  unassailed  all  for- 
eigners in  tlheir  own. 

Two  of  (he  king's  servants  died  of  this  disease,  and  he  in  con- 
sequence removed  to  Hampton  Court  in  haste  and  with  very  few 
attendants.  The  duke  of  Suffolk  and  his  brother,  students  at 
Cambridge;,  were  seized  with  it  at  the  same  time,  sleeping  in  the 
same  bed,  and  expired  within  two  hours  of  each  other.  They 
were  the  children  of  Charles  Brandon  by  his  last  wife,  who  was, 
in  her  own  right,  baroness  Willoughby  of  Eresby.  This  lady  had 
already  made  herself  conspicuous  by  that  earnest  profession  of 
the  protectant  faith  for  which,  in  the  reign  of  Mary,  she  under- 
went many  perils  and  a  long  exile.  She  was  a  munificent  pa- 
troness of  the  learned  and  zealous  divines  of  her  own  persuasion, 
whether  natives  or  foreigners ;  and  the  untimely  loss  of  these 
illustrious  youths,  who  seem  to  have  inherited  both  her  religious 
principles  and  her  love  of  letters,  was  publicly  bewailed  by  the 
principal  members  of  the  university. 

But  by  the  earl  of  Warwick  the  melancholy  event  was  render- 
ed doubly  conducive  to  the  purposes  of  his  ambition.  In  the  first 
place  it  enabled  him  to  bind  to  his  interests  the  marquis  of  Dor- 
set, married  to  the  half  sister  of  the  young  duke  of  Suffolk,  by 
procuring  a  renewal  of  the  ducal  title  in  his  behalf,  and  next  au- 
thorised him  by  a  kind  of  precedent  to  claim  for  himself  the 
same  exalted  dignity. 

The  circumstances  attending  Dudley's  elevation  to  the  ducal 
rank,  are  worthy  of  particular  notice,  as  connected  with  a  melan- 
choly part  of  the  story  of  that  old  and  illustrious  family  of  the 
Percies,  celebrated  through  so  many  ages  of  English  history. 

The  last  of  this  house  who  had  borne  the  title  of  earl  of  Nor- 
thumberland was  that  ardent  and  favoured  suitor  of  AnneBoleyn, 
who  was  compelled  by  his  father  to  renounce  his  pretensions  to 
her  hand  in  deference  to  the  wishes  of  a  royal  competitor. 

The  disappointment  and  the  injury  impressed  themselves  in 
indelible  characters  on  the  heart  of  Percy :  in  common  with  the 
object  of  his  attachment,  he  retained  against  Wolsey,  whom  he 
believed  to  have  been  actively  instrumental  in  fostering  the  king's 
passion,  a  deep  resentment,  which  is  said  to  have  rendered  pecu- 
liarly acceptable  to  him  the  duty  afterwards  imposed  upon  him., 
of  arresting  that  celebrated  minister  in  order  to  his  being  brought 
to  his  trial.  For  the  lady  to  whom  a  barbarous  exertion  of  pa- 
rental authority  had  compelled  him  to  give  his  hand,  while  hi? 
whole  heart  was  devoted  to  another,  he  also  conceived  an  aver 
sion  rather  to  be  lamented  than  wondered  at. 


62 


THE  COURT  OF 


Unfortunately,  she  brought  him  no  living  offspring;  and  after  a 
few  years  he  separated  himself  from  her  to  indulge  his  melan- 
choly alone  and  without  molestation.  In  this  manner  he  spun 
out  a  suffering  existence,  oppressed  with  sickness  of  mind  and 
body,  disengaged  from  public  life,  and  neglectful  of  his  own  em- 
barrassed affairs,  till  the  fatal  catastrophe  of  his  brother,  brought 
to  the  scaffold  in  1537  for  his  share  in  the  popish  rebellion  under 
Aske.  By  this  event,  and  the  attainder  of  sir  Thomas  Percy's 
children  which  followed,  the  earl  saw  himself  deprived  of  the 
only  consolation  which  remained  to  him, — that  of  transmitting  to 
the  posterity  of  a  brother  whom  he  loved,  the  titles  and  estates 
derived  to  him  through  a  long  and  splendid  ancestry.  As  a  last 
resource,  he  bequeathed  all  his  land  to  the  king,  in  the  hope, 
which  was  not  finally  frustrated,  that  a  return  of  royal  favour 
might  one  day  restore  them  to  the  representatives  of  the  Percies. 

This  done,  he  yielded  his  weary  spirit  on  the  last  day  of  the 
same  month  which  had  seen  the  fatal  catastrophe  of  his  misguided 
brother. 

From  this  time  the  title  had  remained  dormant,  till  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  untouched  by  commisseration  or  respect  for  the  mis- 
fortunes of  so  great  a  house,  cut  off  for  the  present  all  chance  of 
its  restoration,  by  causing  the  young  monarch  whom  he  governed 
to  confer  upon  himself  the  whole  of  the  Percy  estates,  with  the 
new  dignity  of  duke  of  Northumberland ;  an  honour  undeserved 
and  ill -acquired,  which  no  son  of  his  was  ever  permitted  to  inherit. 

But  the  soaring  ambition  of  Dudley  regarded  even  these  splen- 
did acquisitions  of  wealth  and  dignity  only  as  steps  to  that  sum- 
mit of  power  and  dominion  which  he  was  resolved  by  all  means, 
and  at  all  hazards  to  attain ;  and  his  next  measure  was  to  pro- 
cure the  removal  of  the  only  man  capable  in  any  degree  of  ob- 
structing his  further  progress.  This  was  the  late  protector,  by 
whom  some  relics  of  authority  were  still  retained. 

At  the  instigation  of  Northumberland,  a  law  was  passed  mak- 
ing it  felony  to  conspire  against  the  life  of  a  privy-counsellor ; 
and  by  various  insidious  modes  of  provocation,  he  was  soon  ena- 
bled to  bring  within  the  danger  of  this  new  act  an  enemy  who 
was  rash,  little  sagacious,  by  no  means  scrupulous,  and  surround- 
ed with  violent  or  treacherous  advisers.  On  October  16th,  1551, 
Somerset,  and  several  of  his  relations  and  dependants,  and  on  the 
following  day  his  haughty  duchess  with  certain  of  her  favourites, 
were  committed  to  the  Tower,  charged  with  treason  and  felony. 
The  duke,  being  put  upon  his  trial,  so  clearly  disproved  most  of 
the  accusations  brought  against  him  that  the  peers  acquitted  him 
of  treason ;  but  the  evidence  of  his  having  entertained  designs 
against  the  lives  of  the  duke  of  Northumberland,  the  marquis  of 
Northampton,  and  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  appeared  so  conclusive 
to  his  judges, — among  whom  these  three  noblemen  themselves 
did  not  blush  to  take  their  seats — that  he  was  found  guilty  of  the 
felony. 

After  his  condemnation,  Somerset  acknowledged  with  contri- 
tion that  he  had  once  mentioned  to  certain  persons  an  intention 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


of  assassinating  theste  lords  ;  but  he  protested  that  he  had  never 
taken  any  measures  for  carrying  this  wicked  purpose  into  exe 
cution.  However  this  might  be,  no  act  of  violence  had  been 
committed,  and  it  was  hoped  by  many  and  expected  by  more, 
that  the  royal  mercy  might  yet  be  extended  to  preserve  his  life : 
but  Northumberland  spared  no  efforts  to  incense  the  king  against 
his  unhappy  uncle  ;  he  also  contrived  by  a  course  of  amusements 
and  festivities  to  divert  him  from  serious  thought;  and  on 
January  21st  1552,  to  the  great  regret  of  the  common  people  and 
the  dismay  of  the  protestant  party,  the  duke  of  Somerset  un- 
derwent the  fatal  stroke  on  Tower-hill. 

During  the  whole  interval  between  the  condemnation  and 
death  of  his  uncle,  the  king,  as  we  are  informed,  had  been  en- 
tertained by  the  nobles  of  his  court  with  "  stately  masques,  brave 
challenges  at  tilt  and  at  barriers,  and  whatsover  exercises  or 
disports  they  could  conjecture  to  be  pleasing  to  him.  Then  also 
he  first  began  to  keep  hall,*  and  the  Christmas-time  was  passed 
over  with  banquetings,  plays,  and  much  variety  of  mirth. "t 

We  learn  that  it  was  an  ancient  custom,  not  only  with  the 
kings  of  England  but  with  noblemen  and  "great  housekeepers 
who  used  liberal  feasting  in  that  season,"  to  appoint  for  the 
twelve  days  of  the  Christmas  festival  a  lord  of  misrule,  whose 
office  it  was  to  provide  diversions  for  their  numerous  guests.  Of 
what  nature  these  entertainments  might  be  we  are  not  exactly 
kiformed ;  they  probably  comprised  some  rude  attempts  at  dra- 
matic representation :  but  the  taste  of  an  age  rapidly  advancing 
in  literature  and  general  refinement,  evidently  began  to  disdain 
the  flat  and  coarse  buffooneries  which  had  formed  the  solace  of 
its  barbarous  predecessors  ;  and  it  was  determined  that  devices 
of  superior  elegance  and  ingenuity  should  distinguish  the  festi- 
vities of  the  new  court  of  Edward.  Accordingly,  George  Ferrers, 
a  gentleman  regularly  educated  at  Oxford,  and  a  member  of  the 
society  of  Lincoln's  inn,  was  chosen  to  preside  over  the  "  merry 
disports  "  who,"  says  Holinshed,  "  being  of  better  credit  and 
estimation  than  commonly  his  predecessors  had  been  before,  re- 
ceived all  his  commissions  and  warrants  by  the  name  of  master 
of  the  king's  pastimes.  Which  gentleman  so  well  supplied  his 
office,  both  in  show  of  sundry  sights  and  devices  of  rare  inventions, 
and  in  act  of  divers  interludes  and  matters  of  pastime  played 
by  persons,  as  not  only  satisfied  the  common  sort,  but  also  were 
very  well  liked  and  allowed  by  the  council,  and  other  of  skill  in 
the  like  pastimes ;  but  best  of  all  by  the  young  king  himself,  as 
appeared  by  his  princely  liberality  in  rewarding  that  service." 

"  On  Monday  the  fourth  day  of  January,"  pursues  our  chroni- 
cler, whose  circumstantial  detail  is  sometimes  picturesque  and 
imusing,  "the  said  lord  of  merry  disports  came  by  water  to  Lon- 
oon,  and  landing  at  the  Tower  wharf  entered  the  Tower,  then 
rode  through  Tower-street,  where  he  was  received  by  Vause, 

*  To  keep  hall,  was  to  keep  "  open  household  with  /.'nink  resort  to  court," 
|  Hay  ward's  Life  of  Edward  VI. 


64 


\ 

THE  COURT  OF 


lord  of  misrule  to  John  Mainard,  one  of  t'he  sheriffs  of  London, 
and  so  conducted  through  the  city  with  a  great  company  of  young 
lords  and  gentlemen  to  the  house  of  sir  George  Burne  lord-mayor, 
where  he  with  the  chief  of  his  company  dined,  and  after  had  a 
great  banquet,  and  at  his  departure  the  lord-mayor  gave  him  a 
standing  cup  with  a  cover  of  silver  and  gilt,  of  the  value  of  ten 
pounds,  for  a  reward,  and  also  set  a  hogshead  of  wine  and  a  barrel 
of  beer  at  his  gate,  for  his  train  that  followed  him.  The  residue 
of  his  gentlemen  and  servants  dined  at  other  alderman's  houses 
and  with  the  sheriffs,  and  then  departed  to  the  Tower  wharf 
again,  and  so  to  the  court  by  water,  to  the  great  commendation 
of  the  mayor  and  aldermen,  and  highly  a.ccepted  of  the  king  and 
council." 

From  this  time  Ferrers  became  "  a  composer  almost  by  pro- 
fession of  occasional  interludes  for  the  diversion  of  the  court."* 
None  of  these  productions  of  his  have  come  down  to  posterity ; 
but  their  author  is  still  known  to  the  student  of  early  English 
poetry,  as  one  of  the  contributors  to  an  extensive  work  entitled 
"  The  Mirror  for  Magistrates,"  which  will  be  mentioned  here- 
after in  speaking  of  the  works  of  Thomas  Sackville  lord  Buck- 
hurst.  The  legends  contained  in  this  collection,  which  came 
from  the  pen  of  Ferrers,  are  not  distinguished  by  any  high  flights 
of  poetic  fancy,  nor  by  a  versification  extremely  correct  or  melo- 
dious. Their  merit  is  that  of  narrating  after  the  chronicles, 
facts  in  English  history,  in  a  style  clear,  natural,  and  energetic, 
with  an  intermixture  of  political  reflections  conceived  in  a  spirit 
of  wisdom  and  moderation,  highly  honourable  to  the  author,  and 
well  adapted  to  counteract  the  turbulent  spirit  of  an  age  in 
which  the  ambition  of  the  high  and  the  discontent  of  the  low 
were  alike  apt  to  break  forth  into  outrages  destructive  of  the 
public  tranquillity. 

Happy  would  it  have  been  for  England  in  more  ages  than  one, 
had  the  sentiment  of  the  following  humble  stanza  been  indelibly 
inscribed  on  the  hearts  of  her  children. 

ccSome  haply  here  will  move  a  further  doubt. 
And  as  for  York's  part  allege  an  elder  right : 
O  brainless  heads  that  so  run  in  and  out ! 
When  length  ot  time  a  state  hath  firmly  pight, 
And  good  accord  halh  put  all  strife  to  flight, 

Were  it  not  better  such  titles  still  to  sleep 

Than  all  a  realm  about  the  trial  weep  ?" 

This  estimable  writer  had  been  a  member  of  parliament  in  the 
time  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  was  imprisoned  by  that  despot  in  1542, 
very  probably  without  any  just  cause.  He  about  the  same  time 
translated  into  English  the  great  charter  of  Englishmen  which 
had  become  a  dead  letter  through  the  tyranny  of  the  Tudorsj 
and  he  rendered  the  same  public  service  respecting  several  im- 
portant statutes  which  existed  only  in  Latin  or  Norman  French ; 

*  See  Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  iii.  p.  213  et  seq. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


65 


pi- oofs  of  a  free  and  courageous  spirit  extrem°ly  rare  in  thai 
servile  age ! 

Ferrers  lived  far  into  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  finishing  his  ca- 
reer at  Flamstead  in  his  native  county  of  Herts- in  1579. 

From  the  pleasing  contemplation  of  a  life  devoted  to  those 
honourable  arts  by  which  society  is  cultivated,  enlightened  and 
adorned,  we  must  now  return  to  tread  with  Northumberland  the 
maze  of  dark  and  crooked  politics.  By  many  a  bold  and  many  a 
crafty  step  this  adept  in  his  art  had  wound  his  way  to  the  highest 
rank  of  nobility  attainable  by  a  subject,  and  to  a  station  of  emi- 
nence and  command  scarcely  compatible  with  that  character. 
But  no  sooner  had  he  reached  it,  than  a  sudden  cloud  lowered 
over  the  splendid  prospect  stretched  around  him,  and  threatened 
to  snatch  it  for  ever  from  his  sight.  The  youthful  monarch  in 
whom,  or  over  whom,  he  reigned,  was  seized  with  a  lingering 
disease  which  soon  put  on  appearances  indicative  of  a  fatal  ter- 
mination. Under  Mary,  the  next  heir,  safety  with  insignificance 
was  the  utmost  that  could  be  hoped  by  the  man  who  had  taken  a 
principal  and  conspicuous  part  in  every  act  of  harshness  towards 
herself,  and  every  demonstration  of  hostility  towards  the  faith 
which  she  cherished,  and  against  whom,  when  he  should  be  no 
longer  protected  by  the  power  which  he  wielded,  so  many  law- 
less and  rapacious  acts  were  ready  to  rise  up  in  judgment. 

One  scheme  alone  suggested  itself  for  the  preservation  of  his 
authority  :  it  was  dangerous,  almost  desperate  ;  but  loss  of  pow- 
er was  more  dreaded  by  Dudley  than  any  degree  of  hazard  to 
others  or  himself ;  and  he  resolved  at  all  adventures  to  make  the 
attempt. 

By  means  of  the  new  honours  which  he  had  caused  to  be  con- 
ferred on  the  marquis  of  Dorset,  now  duke  of  Suffolk,  he  en- 
gaged this  weak  and  inconsiderate  man  to  give  his  eldest  daughter, 
the  lady  Jane  Grey,  in  marriage  to  his  fourth  son  Guildford  Dud- 
ley. At  the  same  time  he  procured  an  union  between  her  sister, 
the  lady  Catherine,  and  the  eldest  son  of  his  able  but  mean- 
spirited  and  time-serving  associate,  the  earl  of  Pembroke  ;  and 
a  third  between  his  own  daughter  Catherine  and  lord  Hastings, 
son  of  the  earl  of  Huntingdon  by  the  eldest  daughter  and  co-heir 
of  Henry  Pole  lord  Montacute  ;  M  whom  the  claims  of  the  line 
of  Clarence  now  vested. 

These  nuptials  were  all  celebrated  on  one  day,  and  with  an 
ostentation  of  magnificence  and  festivity  which  the  people  ex- 
claimed against  as  higHy  indecorous  in  the  present  dangerous 
state  of  the  king's  health.  But  it  was  not  on  their  good  will  that 
Northumberland  /bunded  his  hopes,  and  their  clamours  were 
braved  or  disregarded. 

His  next  measure  was  to  prevail  upon  the  dying  king  to  dis- 
pose of  the  crown  by  will  in  favour  of  the  lady  Jane.  The  ani- 
mosity against  his  sister  Mary,  to  which  their  equal  bigotry  in 
opposite  modes  of  faith  had  given  birth  in  the  mind  of  Edward, 
would  naturally  induce  him  to  lend  a  willing  ear  to  such  specioua 
arguments  as  might  be  produced  in  justification  of  her  exclusion  ; 


66 


THE  COURT  OF 


but  that  he  could  be  brought  with  equal  facility  to  disinherit  also 
Elizabeth,  a  sister  whom  he  loved,  a  princess  judged  in  all  res- 
pects worthy  of  a  crown,  and  one  with  whose  religious  profes- 
sion he  had  every  reason  to  be  perfectly  satisfied,  appears  an  in- 
dication of  a  character  equally  cold  and  feeble.  Much  allow- 
ance, however,  may  be  made  for  the  extreme  youth  of  Edward  , 
the  weakness  of  his  sinking  frame  ;  his  affection  for  the  pious  and 
amiable  Jane,  his  near  relation  and  the  frequent  companion  of 
his  childhood  ;  and  above  all,  for  the  importunities,  the  artifices, 
of  the  practised  intriguers  by  whom  his  dying  couch  was  sur- 
rounded* 

The  partisans  of  Northumberland  did  not  fail  to  urge,  that  if 
one  of  the  princesses  were  set  aside  on  account  of  the  nullifica- 
tion of  her  mother's  marriage,  the  same  ground  of  exclusion  was 
valid  against  the  other.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  testamentary 
dispositions  of  the  late  king  were  to  be  adhered  to,  the  lady  Ma- 
ry must  necessarily  precede  her  sister,  and  the  cause  of  religous 
reformation  was  lost,  perhaps  for  ever. 

With  regard  to  the  other  claimants  who  might  still  be  inter- 
posed between  Jane  and  the  English  throne,  it  was  pretended 
that  the  Scottish  branch  of  the  royal  family  was  put  out  of  the 
question  by  that  clause  of  Henry's  will  which  placed  the  Suf- 
folk line  next  in  order  to  his  own  immediate  descendants ;  as  if 
an  instrument  which  was  set  aside  as  to  several  of  its  most  im- 
portant provisions  was  necessarily  to  be  held  binding  in  all  the 
rest.  Even  admitting  this,  the  duchess  of  Suffolk  herself  stoojd 
before  her  daughter  in  order  of  succession ;  but  a  renunciation 
obtained  from  this  lady  by  the  authority  of  Northumberland,  not 
only  of  her  own  title  but  of  that  of  any  future  son  who  might  be 
born  to  her,  was  supposed  to  obviate  this  objection. 

The  right  of  the  king,  even  if  he  had  attained  the  age  of  ma- 
jority, to  dispose  of  the  crown  by  will  without  the  concurrence 
of  parliament,  was  absolutely  denied  by  the  first  law  authorities  : 
but  the  power  and  violence  of  Northumberland  overruled  all  ab- 
jections, and  in  the  end  the  new  settlement  received  the  sig- 
nature of  all  the  privy  council,  and  the  whole  bench  of  judges, 
with  the  exception  of  justice  Hales,  and  perhaps  of  Cecil,  then 
secretary  of  state,  who  afterwards  affirmed  that  he  put  his  name 
to  this  instrument  only  as  a  witness  to  the  signature  of  the  king. 
Cranmer  resisted  for  some  time,  '*ut  was  at  length  won  to  com- 
pliance by  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  Edward. 

Notwithstanding  this  general  concurrence,  it  is  probable  that 
very  few  of  the  council  either  expected  01  desired  that  this  act 
should  be  sanctioned  by  the  acquiescence  of  the  nation ;  they 
signed  it  merely  as  a  protection  from  the  present  effects  of  the 
anger  of  Northumberland,  whom  most  of  them  hated  as  well  as 
feared  ;  each  privately  hoping  that  he  should  find  opportunity  to 
disavow  the  act  of  the  body  in  time  to  obtain  the  forgiveness  of 
Mary,  should  her  cause  be  found  finally  to  prevail.  The  selfish 
meanness  and  political  profligacy  of  such  a  conduct  it  is  need- 
less to  stigmatize ;  but  this  was  not  the  age  of  public  virtue  in 
England, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


A  just  detestation  of  the  character  of  Northumberland  had 
rendered  verv  prevalent  an  idea,  that  the  constitution  of  the 
king  was  undermined  by  slow  poisons  of  his  administering  ;  and 
i(  was  significantly  remarked,  that  his  health  had  begun  to  de- 
cline from  the  period  of  lord  Robert  Dudley's  being  placed 
about  him  as  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber.  Nothing,  however, 
could  be  more  destitute  both  of  truth  and  probability  than  such 
a  suspicion.  Besides  the  satisfactory  evidence  that  Edward's 
disease  was  a  pulmonary  consumption,  such  as  no  poison  could 
produce,  it  has  been  well  remarked,  that  if  Northumberland  were 
a  sound  politician,  there  could  be  no  man  in  England  more  sin- 
cerely desirous,  for  his  own  sake,  of  the  continuance  of  the  life 
and  reign  of  this  young  prince.  By  a  change  he  had  every  thing 
to  lose,  and  nothing  to  gain.  Several  circumstances  tend  also 
to  show  that  the  fatal  event,  hastened  by  the  treatment  of  a  fe- 
male empiric  to  whom  the  royal  patient  had  been  very  impro- 
perly confided,  came  upon  Northumberland  at  last  somewhat  by 
surprise,  and  compelled  him  to  act  with  a  precipitation  injurious 
to  his  designs.  Several  preparatoy  steps  were  yet  wanting ;  in 
particular  the  important  one  of  securing  the  persons  of  the  two 
princesses:  but  this  omission  it  seemed  still  possible  to  supply; 
and  he  ordered  the  death  of  the  king  to  be  carefully  concealed, 
while  he  wrote  letters  in  his  name  requiring  the  immediate  at- 
tendance of  his  sisters  on  his  person.  With  Mary  the  strata- 
gem had  nearly  succeeded :  she  had  reached  Hoddesdon  on  her 
journey  to  London,  when  secret  intelligence  of  the  truth,  con- 
veyed to  her  by  the  earl  of  Arundel,  caused  her  to  change  her 
course.  It  is  probably  a  similar  intimation  from  some  friendly 
hand,  Cecil's  perhaps,  which  caused  Elizabeth  to  disobey  the 
summons,  and  remain  tranquil  at  one  of  her  houses  in  Hertford- 
shire. 

Here  she  was  soon  after  waited  upon  by  messengers  from 
Northumberland,  who  apprised  her  of  the  accession  of  the  lady 
Jane,  and  proposed  to  her  to  resign  her  own  title  in  consider- 
ation of  a  sum  of  money,  and  certain  lands  which  should  be  as- 
signed her.  But  Elizabeth  wisely  and  courageously  replied, 
that  her  elder  sister  was  first  to  be  agreed  with,  during  whose 
lifetime  she,  for  her  part,  could  claim  no  right  at  all.  And  de- 
termined to  make  common  cause  with  Mary  against  their  com- 
mon enemies,  she  equipped  with  all  speed  a  body  of  a  thousand 
horse,  at  the  head  of  which  she  went  forth  to  meet  her  sister  on 
her  approach  to  London. 

The  event  quickly  proved  that  she  had  taken  the  right  part. 
Though  the  council  manifested  their  present  subserviency  to 
Northumberland  by  proclaiming  queen  Jane  in  the  metropolis, 
and  by  issuing  in  her  name  a  summons  to  Mary  to  lay  aside  her 
pretensions  to  the  crown,  this  leader  was  too  well  practised  in 
the  arts  of  courts,  to  be  the  dupe  of  their  hollow  professions  of  at- 
tachment to  a  cause  unsupported,  as  he  soon  perceived,  by  the 
favour  of  the  people. 

The  march  of  Northumberland  at  the  head  of  a  small  body  oi 


68 


THE  COURT  OF 


troops  to  resist  the  forces  levied  by  Mary  in  Norfolk  and  Suf- 
folk, was  the  signal  for  the  defection  of  a  great  majority  of  the 
council.  They  broke  from  the  kind  of  honourable  custody  in  the 
Tower  in  which,  from  a  well-founded  distrust  of  their  intentions, 
Northumberland  had  hitherto  held  them  ;  and  ordering  Mary  to 
be  proclaimed  in  London,  they  caused  the  hapless  Jane,  after  a 
nominal  reign  of  ten  days,  to  be  detained  as  a  prisoner  in  that 
fortress  which  she  had  entered  as  a  sovereign. 

Not  a  hand  was  raised,  not  a  drop  of  blood  was  shed,  in  de- 
fence of  this  pageant  raised  by  the  ambition  of  Dudley.  De- 
serted by  his  partisans,  his  soldiers  and  himself,  the  guilty  wretch 
sought,  as  a  last  feeble  resource,  to  make  a  merit  of  being  the 
first  man  to  throw  up  his  cap  in  the  market-place  of  Cambridge, 
and  cry  "  God  save  queen  Mary  !"  But  on  the  following  day  the 
earl  of  Arundel,  whom  he  had  disgraced,  and  who  hated  him, 
though  a  little  before  he  had  professed  that  he  could  wish  to 
spend  his  blood  at  his  feet,  came  and  arrested  him  in  her  majes- 
ty's name,  and  Mary,  proceeding  to  London,  seated  herself  with 
out  opposition  on  the  throne  of  her  ancestors. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

1553  and  1554. 


Maty  affects  attachment  to  Elizabeth. — Short  duration  of  her 
kindness. — Earl  of  Devonshire  liberated  from  the  Tower. — His 
character. — He  rejects  the  love  of  Mary — shows  partiality  to 
Elizabeth. — Anger  of  Mary. — Elizabeth  retires  from  court. — 
Queen's  proposed  marriage  unpopular. — Character  of  sir  T. 
Wyat. — His  rebellion. — Earl  of  Devonshire  remanded  to  the 
Tower. — Elizabeth  summoned  to  court — is  detained  by  illness. 
Wyat  taken — is  said  to  accuse  Elizabeth. — She  is  brought  pri- 
soner to  the  court — examined  by  the  council — dismissed — 
brought  again  to  court — re-examined — commited  to  the  Tower. 
Particulars  of  her  behaviour. — Influence  of  Mary's  government 
on  various  eminent  characters — Reinstatement  of  the  duke  of 
Norfolk  in  honour  and  office. — His  retirement  and  death. — Li- 
beration from  the  Tower  of  Tonstal. — His  character  and  af- 
ter fortunes. — Of  Gardiner  and  Bonner. — Their  views  and 
characters. — Of  the  duchess  of  Somerset  and  the  marchioness 
of  Exeter. — Imprisonment  of  the  Dudleys — of  several  protestant 
bishops — of  judge  Hales. — His  sufferings  and  death. — Charac- 
ters and  fortunes  of  sir  John  Cheke,  sir  Anthony  Cook,  Dr.  Cox, 
and  other  protestant  exiles. 

THE  conduct  of  Elizabeth  during  the  late  alarming  crisis, 
earned  for  her  from  Mary,  during  the  first  days  of  her  reign. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


69 


,ome  demonstration  of  sisterly  affection.  She  caused  her  to  bear 
her  company  in  her  public  entry  into  London;  kindly  detained  her 
for  a  time  near  her  own  person ;  and  seemed  to  have  consigned 
for  ever  to  an  equitable  oblivion  all  the  mortifications  and  heart- 
burnings of  which  the  child  of  Anne  Boleyn  had  been  the  inno- 
cent occasion  to  her  in  times  past,  and  under  circumstances 
which  could  never  more  return. 

In  the  splendid  procession  which  attended  her  majesty  from 
the  Tower  to  Whitehall  previously  to  her  coronation  on  October 
1st,  1553,  the  royal  chariot,  sumptuously  covered  with  cloth  of 
tissue  and  drawn  by  six  horses  with  trappings  of  the  same  mate- 
rial, was  immediately  followed  by  another,  likewise  drawn  by  six 
horses  and  covered  with  cloth  of  silver,  in  which  sat  the  princess 
Elizabeth  and  the  lady  Anne  of  Cleves,  who  took  place  in  this 
ceremony  as  the  adopted  sister  of  Henry  VIII. 

But  notwithstanding  these  fair  appearances,  the  rancorous 
feelings  of  Mary's  heart  witji  respect  to  her  sister  were  only  re- 
pressed or  disguised,  not  eradicated  ;  and  it  was  not  long  before 
a  new  subject  of  jealousy  caused  them  to  revive  in  all  their  pris- 
tine energy. 

Amongst  the  state  prisoners  committed  to  the  Tower  by  Henry 
VIII.,  whose  liberation  his  executors  had  resisted  during  the 
whole  reign  of  Edward,  but  whom  it  was  Mary's  first  act  of  roy- 
alty to  release  and  reinstate  in  their  offices  or  honours,  was  Ed- 
ward Courtney,  son  of  the  unfortunate  marquis  of  Exeter.  From 
the  age  of  fourteen  to  that  of  six-and-twenty,  this  victim  of  ty- 
ranny had  been  doomed  to  expiate  in  a  captivity  which  threatened 
to  be  perpetual,  the  involuntary  offence  of  inheriting  through  an 
attainted  father  the  blood  of  the  fourth  Edward.  To  the  surprise 
and  admiration  of  the  court,  he  now  issued  forth  a  comely  and 
accomplished  gentleman  ;  deeply  versed  in  the  literature  of  the 
age ;  skilled  in  music,  and  still  more  so  in  the  art  of  painting, 
which  had  formed  the  chief  solace  of  his  long  seclusion ;  and 
graced  with  that  polished  elegance  of  manners,  the  result,  in  most 
who  possess  it,  of  early  intercourse  with  the  world,  and  an  assi- 
duous imitation  of  the  best  examples,  but  to  a  few  of  her  favour- 
ites the  free  gift  of  nature  herself.  To  all  his  prepossessing 
qualities  was  superadded  that  deep  romantic  kind  of  interest 
with  which  sufferings,  long  unmerited  and  extraordinary,  never 
fail  to  invest  a  youthful  sufferer. 

What  wonder  that  Courtney  speedily  became  the  favourite  of 
the  nation  ! — what  wonder  that  even  the  severe  bosom  of  Mary 
herself  was  touched  with  tenderness  !  With  the  eager  zeal  of 
the  sentiment  just  awakened  in  her  heart,  she  hastened  to  re- 
store to  her  too  amiable  kinsman  the  title  of  earl  of  Devonshire, 
long  hereditary  in  the  illustrious  house  of  Courtney,  to  which  she 
added  the  whole  of  those  patrimonial  estates  which  the  forfeiture 
of  his  father  had  vested  in  the  crown.  She  went  further ;  she 
lent  a  propitious  ear  to  the  whispered  suggestion  of  her  people,, 
still  secretly  partial  to  the  house  of  York,  that  an  English  prince 
of  the  blood  was  most  worthy  to  share  the  throne  of  an  English 


70 


THE  COURT  OF 


queen.  It  is  even  affirmed,  that  hints  were  designedly  thrown 
out  to  the  young  man  himself  of  the  impression  which  he  had 
made  upon  her  heart.  But  Courtney  generously  disdained,  as 
it  appears,  to  barter  his  affections  for  a  crown.  The  youth,  the 
talents,  the  graces  of  Elizabeth  had  inspired  him  with  a  prefer- 
ence which  he  was  either  unwilling  or  unable  to  conceal ;  Mary 
was  left  to  vent  her  disappointment  in  resentment  against  the  ill- 
fated  object  of  her  preference,  and  in  every  demonstration  of  a 
malignant  jealousy  towards  her  innocent  and  unprotected  rival. 

By  the  first  act  of  a  parliament  summoned  immediately  after 
the  coronation,  Mary's  birth  had  been  pronounced  legitimate,  the 
marriage  of  her  father  and  mother  valid,  and  their  divorce  null 
and  void.  A  stigma  was  thus  unavoidably  cast  on  the  offspring 
of  Henry's  second  marriage  ;  and  no  sooner  had  Elizabeth  incur- 
red" the  displeasure  of  her  sister,  than  she  was  made  to  feel  how 
far  the  consequences  of  this  new  declaration  of  the  legislature 
might  be  made  to  extend.  Notwithstanding  the  unrevoked  suc- 
cession act  which  rendered  her  next  heir  to  the  crown,  she 
was  forbidden  to  take  place  of  the  countess  of  Lenox,  or  the 
duchess  of  Suffolk,  in  the  presence-chamber,  and  her  friends 
were  discountenanced  or  affronted  obviously  on  her  account.  Her 
merit,  her  accomplishments,  her  insinuating  manners,  which  at- 
tracted to  her  the  admiration  and  attendance  of  the  young  no- 
bility, and  the  favour  of  the  nation,  were  so  many  crimes  in  the 
eyes  of  a  sovereign  who  already  began  to  feel  her  own  unpopu- 
larity ;  and  Elizabeth,  who  was  not  of  a  spirit  to  endure  public 
and  unmerited  slights  with  tameness,  found  it  at  Once  the  most 
dignified  and  the  safest  course,  to  seek,  before  the  end  of  the 
year,  the  peaceful  retirement  of  her  house  of  Ashridge  in  Buck- 
inghamshire. It  was,  however,  made  a  condition  of  the  leave  of 
absence  from  court  which  she  was  obliged  to  solicit,  that  she 
should  take  with  her  sir  Thomas  Pope  and  sir  John  Gage,  who 
were  placed  about  her  as  inspectors  and  superintendants  of  her 
conduct,  under  the  name  of  officers  of  her  household. 

The  marriage  of  Mary  to  Philip  of  Spain  was  now  openly  talk- 
ed of.  It  was  generally  and  justly  unpopular :  the  protestant 
party,  whom  the  measures  of  the  queen  had  already  filled  with 
apprehensions,  saw,  in  her  desire  of  connecting  herself  yet  more 
closely  with  the  most  bigoted  royal  family  of  Europe,  a  confirma- 
tion of  their  worst  forebodings  ;  and  the  tyranny  of  the  Tudors 
had  not  yet  so  entirely  crushed  the  spirit  of  Englishmen  as  to 
render  them  tamely  acquiescent  in  the  prospect  of  their  coun- 
try's becoming  a  province  to  Spain,  subject  to  the  sway  of  that 
detested  people  whose  rapacity,  and  violence,  and  unexampled 
cruelty,  had  filled  both  hemispheres  with  groans  and  execrations. 

The  house  of  commons  petitioned  the  queen  against  marrying 
a  foreign  prince  :  she  replied  by  dissolving  them  in  anger  ;  and 
all  hope  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  connexion  by  legal  means  being 
thus  precluded,  measures  of  a  more  dangerous  character  began 
to  be  resorted  to. 

Sir  Thomas  Wyat,  of  Allingham  Castle  in  Kent,  son  of  the 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  71 


poet,  Wit,  and  courtier  of  that  name,  had  hitherto  been  distin 
guished  by  a  zealous  loyalty;  and  he  is  said  to  have  been  also  a 
catholic.  Though  allied  in  blood  to  the  Dudleys,  not  only  had 
he  refused  to  Northumberland  his  concurrence  in  the  nomina- 
tion of  Jane  Grey,  but,  without  waiting  a  moment  to  see  which 
party  would  prevail,  he  had  proclaimed  queen  Mary  in  the  mar- 
ket-place at  Maidstone,  for  which  instance  of  attachment  he  had 
received  her  thanks.*  But  Wyathad  been  employed  during  se- 
veral years  of  his  life  in  embassies  to  Spain  ;  and  the  intimate 
acquaintance  which  he  had  thus  acquired  of  the  principles  and 
practices  of  its  court,  filled  him  with  such  horror  of  their  intro- 
duction into  his  native  country,  that,  preferring  patriotism  to 
loyalty  where  their  claims  appeared  incompatible,  he  incited  his 
neighbours  and  friends  to  insurrection. 

In  the  same  cause  sir  Peter  Carew,  and  sir  Gawen  his  uncle, 
endeavoured  to  raise  the  West,  but  with  small  success  ;  and  the 
attempts  made  by  the  duke  of  Suffolk,  lately  pardoned  and  libe- 
rated, to  arm  his  tenantry  and  retainers  in  Warwickshire  and 
Leicestershire,  proved  still  more  futile.  Notwithstanding  how- 
ever this  want  of  co-operation,  Wyat's  rebellion  wore  for  some 
time  a  very  formidable  appearance.  The  London  trained-bands 
sent  out  to  oppose  him,  went  over  to  him  in  a  body  under  Bret, 
their  captain  ;  the  guards,  almost  the  only  regular  troops  in  the 
kingdom,  were  chiefly  protestants,  and  therefore  little  trusted 
by  the  queen  ;  and  it  was  known  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  me- 
tropolis, for  which  he  was  in  full  march,  were  in  their  hearts  in- 
clined to  his  cause. 

It  was  pretty  well  ascertained  that  the  earl  of  Devonshire  had 
received  an  invitation  to  join  the  western  insurgents  ;  and  though 
he  appeared  to  have  rejected  the  proposal,  he  was  arbitrarily 
remanded  to  his  ancient  abode  in  the  Tower. 

Elizabeth  was  naturally  regarded  under  all  these  circum- 
stances of  alarm  with  extreme  jealousy  and  suspicion.  It  was 
well  known  that  her  present  compliance  with  the  religion  of  the 
court  was  merely  prudential ;  that  she  was  the  only  hope  of  the 
protestant  party,  a  party  equally  formidable  by  zeal  and  by 
numbers,  and  which  it  was  resolved  to  crush ;  it  was  more  than 
suspected,  that  though  Wyat  himself  still  professed  an  inviolable 
fidelity  to  the  person  of  the  reigning  sovereign,  and  strenuously 
declared  the  Spanish  match  to  be  the  sole  grievance  against 
which  he  had  taken  arms,  many  of  his  partisans  had  been  led  by 
their  religious  zeal  to  entertain  the  further  view  ot  dethroning 
the  queen,  in  favour  of  her  sister,  whom  they  desired  to  marry 
to  the  earl  of  Devonshire.  It  was  not  proved  that  the  princess 
herself  had  given  any  encouragement  to  these  designs ;  but  sir 
James  Croft,  an  adherent  of  Wyat's,  had  lately  visited  Ashridge, 
and  held  conferences  with  some  of  her  attendants ;  and  it  had 
since  been  rumored  that  she  was  projecting  a  removal  to  her 
manor  of  Donnington  castle  in  Berkshire,  on  the  south  side  of 

*  See  Carte's  History  of  England. 


72 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  Thames,  where  nothing  but  a  days'  march  through  an  open 
country  would  be  interposed  between  her  residence  and  the  sta- 
tion of  the  Kentish  rebels. 

Policy  seemed  now  to  dictate  the  precaution  of  securing  her 
person  ;  and  the  queen  addressed  to  her  accordingly  the  follow 
ing  letter. 

"  Right  dear  and  entirely  beloved  sister, 

«  greet  you  well :  And  whereas  certain  evil -disposed  per- 
sons, minding  more  the  satisfaction  of  their  own  malicious  and 
seditious  minds  than  their  duty  of  allegiance  towards  us,  have 
of  late  foully  spread  divers  lewd  and  untrue  rumours ;  and  by 
that  means  and  other  devilish  practices  do  travail  to  induce  our 
good  and  loving  subjects  to  an  unnatural  rebellion  against  God, 
us,  and  the  tranquility  of  our  realm  :  We,  tendering  the  surety 
of  your  person,  which  might  chance  to  be  in  some  peril  if  any 
sudden  tumult  should  arise  where  you  now  be,  or  about  Don- 
nington,  whither,  as  we  understand,  you  are  minded  shortly  to 
remove,  do  therefore  think  expedient  you  should  put  yourself  in 
good  readiness,  with  all  convenient  speed,  to  make  your  repair 
hither  to  us.  Which  we  pray  you  fail  not  to  do :  Assuring  you, 
that  as  you  may  most  safely  remain  here,  so  shall  you  be  most 
heartily  welcome  to  us.  And  of  your  mind  herein  we  pray  you 
to  return  answer  by  this  messenger. 

"  Given  under  our  signet  at  our  manor  of  St.  James'  the  26th 
of  January  in  the  1st  year  of  our  reign. 

"  Your  loving  sister 

Mary,  the  queen." 

This  summons  found  Elizabeth  confined  to  her  bed  by  sick- 
ness ;  and  her  officers  sent  a  formal  statement  of  the  fact  to  the 
privy-council,  praying  that  the  delay  of  her  appearance  at  court 
might  not,  under  such  circumstances,  be  misconstrued  either 
with  respect  to  her  or  to  themselves.  Monsieur  de  Noailles,  the 
French  ambassador,  in  some  papers  of  his,  calls  this  "  a  favoura- 
ble illness"  to  Elizabeth,  "  since,"  adds  he,  "  it  seems  likely  to 
save  Mary  from  the  crime  of  putting  her  sister  to  death  by  vio- 
lence." And  true  it  is,  that  by  detaining  her  in  the  country  till 
the  insurrection  was  effectually  suppressed,  it  preserved  her  from 
any  sudden  act  of  cruelty  which  the  violence  of  the  alarm  might 
have  prompted:  but  other  and  perhaps  greater  dangers  still 
awaited  her. 

A  few  days  after  the  date  of  the  foregoing  letter,  Wyat  en- 
tered Westminster,  but  with  a  force  very  inadequate  to  his  un- 
dertaking :  he  was  repulsed  in  an  attack  on  the  palace ;  and 
afterwards,  finding  the  gates  of  London  closed  against  him  and 
seeing  his  followers  slain,  taken,  or  flying  in  all  directions,  he 
voluntarily  surrendered  himself  to  one  of  the  queen's  officers' 
and  was  conveyed  to  the  Tower.  It  was  immediately  given  out, 
that  he  had  made  a  full  discovery  of  his  accomplices,  and  named 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


73 


amongst  them  the  princess  and  the  earl  of  Devonshire  ;  and  on 
this  pretext,  for  it  was  probably  no  more,  three  gentlemen  were 
sent,  ai fended  by  a  troop  of  horse,  with  peremptory  orders  to 
bring  Elizabeth  back  with  them  to  London. 

They  reached  her  abode  at  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  bursting 
into  her  sick  chamber,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  her  ladies, 
abruptly  informed  her  of  their  errand.  Affrighted  at  the  sum- 
mons, she  declared  however  her  entire  willingness  to  wait  upon 
the  queen  her  sister,  to  whom  she  warmly  protested  her  loyal 
attachment ;  but  she  appealed  to  their  own  observation  for  the 
reality  of  her  sickness,  and  her  utter  inability  to  quit  her  cham- 
ber. The  gentlemen  pleaded,  on  the  other  side,  the  urgency  of 
their  commission,  and  said  that  they  had  brought  the  queen's 
litter  for  her  conveyance.  Two  physicians  were  then  called  in, 
who  gave  it  as  their  opinion  that  she  might  be  removed  without 
danger  to  her  life  ;  and  on  the  morrow  her  journey  commenced. 

The  departure  of  Elizabeth  from  Ashridge  was  attended  by 
the  tears  and  passionate  lamentations  of  her  afflicted  household, 
who  naturally  anticipated  from  such  beginnings  the  worst  that 
could  befal  her.  So  extreme  was  her  sickness,  aggravated 
doubtless  by  terror  and  dejection,  that  even  these  stern  conduc- 
tors found  themselves  obliged  to  allow  her  no  less  than  four 
nights'  rest  in  a  journey  of  only  twenty-nine  miles. 

Between  Highgate  and  London  her  spirits  were  cheered  by  the 
appearance  of  a  number  of  gentlemen  who  rode  out  to  meet  her, 
as  a  public  testimony  of  their  sympathy  and  attachment ;  and  as 
she  proceeded,  the  general  feeling  was  further  manifested  by 
crowds  of  people  lining  the  waysides,  who  flocked  anxiously 
about  her  litter,  weeping  and  bewailing  her  aloud.  A  manuscript 
chronicle  of  the  time  describes  her  passage  on  this  occasion 
through  Smithfield  and  Fleet-street,  in  a  litter  open  on  both  sides, 
with  a  hundred  "  velvet  coats"  after  her,  and  a  hundred  others 
"  in  coats  of  fine  red  guarded  with  velvet ;"  and  with  this  train 
she  passed  through  the  queen's  garden  to  the  court. 

This  open  countenancing  of  the  princess  by  a  formidable  party 
in  the  capital  itself,  seems  to  have  disconcerted  the  plans  of 
Mary  and  her  advisers ;  and  they  contented  themselves  for  the 
present  with  detaining  her  in  a  kind  of  honourable  custody  at 
Whitehall.  Here  she  underwent  a  strict  examination  by  the  privy- 
council  respecting  Wyat*s  insurrection,  and  the  rising  in  the  West 
under  Carew;  but  she  steadfastly  protested  her  innocence  and  igno- 
rance of  all  such  designs;  and  nothing  coming  out  against  her,  in 
about  a  fortnight  she  was  dismissed,  and  suffered  to  return  to  her 
own  house.  Her  troubles,  however,  were  as  yet  only  beginning.  Sir 
William  St.  Low,  one  of  her  officers,  was  apprehended  as  an  adhe- 
rent of  Wyat's;  and  this  leader  himself,  who  had  been  respited  for 
the  purpose  of  working  on  his  love  of  life,  and  leading  him  to  be- 
tray his  confederates,  was  still  reported  to  accuse  the  princess. 
An  idle  story  was  officiously  circulated  of  his  having  conveyed  to 
her  in  a  bracelet  the  whole  scheme  of  his  plot;  and  on  March  15th, 
she  was  again  taken  into  custody  and  brought  to  Hampton-court, 


74 


THE  COURT  OF 


Soon  after  her  arrival,  it  was  finally  announced  to  her  by  a  de= 
putation  of  the  council,  not  without  strong  expressions  of  con- 
cern from  several  of  the  members,  that  her  majesty  had  determi- 
ned on  her  committal  to  the  Tower  till  the  matter  could  be  fur- 
ther investigated.  Bishop  Gardiner,  now  a  principal  counsellor, 
and  two  others,  came  soon  after,  and,  dismissing  the  princess's 
attendants,  supplied  their  places  with  some  of  their  queen's,  and 
set  a  guard  round  the  palace  for  that  night.  The  next  day,  the 
earl  of  Sussex  and  another  lord  were  sent  to  announce  to  her  that 
a  barge  was  in  readiness  for  her  immediate  conveyance  to  the 
Tower.  She  entreated  first  to  be  permitted  to  write  to  the  queen ; 
and  the  earl  of  Sussex  assenting,  in  spite  of  the  angry  opposition 
of  his  companion,  whose  name  is  concealed  by  the  tenderness  of 
his  contemporaries,  and  undertaking  to  be  himself  the  bearer  of 
her  letter,  she  took  the  opportunity  to  repeat  her  protestations  of 
innocence  and  loyalty,  concluding,  with  an  extraordinary  vehe- 
mence of  asseveration,  in  these  words :  "  As  for  that  traitor 
Wyat,  he  might  peradventure  write  me  a  letter;  but  on  my  faith 
I  never  received  any  from  him.  And  as  for  the  copy  of  my  letter 
to  the  French  king,  I  pray  God  confound  me  eternally,  if  ever  I 
sent  him  word,  message,  token,  or  letter,  by  any  means."  With 
respect  to  the  last  clause  of  this  disavowal,  it  may  be  fit  to  ob- 
serve, that  there  is  indeed  no  proof  that  Elizabeth  ever  returned 
any  answer  to  the  letters  or  messages  of  the  French  king ;  but 
that  it  seems  a  well  authenticated  fact,  that  during  some  period 
of  her  adversity,  Henry  II.  made  her  the  offer  of  an  asylum  in 
France.  The  circumstance  of  the  dauphin's  being  betrothed  to 
the  queen  of  Scots,  who  claimed  to  precede  Elizabeth  in  the  or- 
der of  succession,  renders  the  motive  of  this  invitation  somewhat 
suspicious  ;  at  all  events,  it  was  one  which  she  was  never  tempted 
to  accept. 

Her  letter  did  not  obtain  for  the  princess  what  she  sought, — an 
interview  with  her  sister ;  and  the  next  day  being  Palm  Sunday, 
strict  orders  were  issued  for  all  people  to  attend  the  churches 
and  carry  their  palms  ;  and  in  the  mean  time  she  was  pri- 
vately removed  to  the  Tower,  attended  by  the  earl  of  Sussex 
and  the  other  lord,  three  of  her  own  ladies,  three  of  the  queen's,, 
and  some  of  her  officers.  Several  characteristic  traits  of  her 
behaviour  have  been  preserved.  On  reaching  her  melancholy 
place  of  destination,  she  long  refused  to  land  at  Traitor's  gate  ; 
and  when  the  uncourteous  nobleman  declared  "  that  she  should 
not  choose,"  offering  her,  however,  at  the  same  time,  his  cloak  to 
protect  her  from  the  rain,  she  retained  enough  of  her  high  spirit 
to  put  it  from  her  "  with  a  good  dash."  As  she  set  her  foot  on 
the  ill-omened  stairs,  she  said,  "  Here  landeth  as  true  a  subject, 
being  a  prisoner,  as  ever  landed  at  these  stairs  ;  and  before  thee, 
O  God  !  I  speak  it,  having  no  other  friends  but  thee  alone." 

On  seeing  a  number  of  warders  and  other  attendants  drawn 
out  in  order,  she  asked,  "  What  rneaneth  this  ?"  Some  one  an- 
swered, that  it  was  customary  on  receiving  a  prisoner.  *«  If  it 
be,"  said  she,  "  I  beseech  you  that  for  my  cause  they  may  be 


QUEKN  ELIZABETH. 


75 


dismissed."  Immediately  the  poor  men  kneeled  down  and  pray 
ed  God  to  preserve  her;  for  which  action  they  all  lost  their 
places  the  next  day. 

Going  a  little  further,  she  sat  down  on  a  stone  to  rest  herself; 
and  the  lieutenant  urging  her  to  rise  and  come  in  out  of  the  cold 
and  wet,  she  answered,  "  Better  sitting  here  than  in  a  worse 
place,  for  God  knoweth  whither  you  bring  me."  On  hearing 
these  words,  her  gentleman-usher  wept,  for  which  she  reproved 
him,  telling  him  he  ought  rather  to  be  her  comforter,  especially 
since  she  knew  her  own  truth  to  be  such,  that  no  man  should 
have  cause  to  weep  for  her.  Then  rising,  she  entered  the  prison, 
and  its  gloomy  doors  were  locked  and  bolted  on  her.  Shocked 
and  dismayed,  but  still  resisting  the  weakness  of  unavailing  la- 
mentation, she  called  for  her  book  and  devoutly  prayed  that  she 
might  build  her  house  upon  the  rock." 

Meanwhile  her  conductors  retired  to  concert  measures  for  keep- 
ing her  securely  ;  and  her  firm  friend,  the  earl  of  Sussex,  did  not 
neglect  the  occasion  of  reminding  all  whom  it  might  concern,  that 
the  king  their  master's  daughter  was  to  be  treated  in  no  other 
manner  than  they  might  be  able  to  justify,  whatever  should  hap- 
pen hereafter ;  and  that  they  were  to  take  heed  to  do  nothing  but 
what  their  commission  would  bear  out.  To  this  the  others  cor- 
dially assented;  and  having  performed  their  office,  the  two  lords 
departed. 

Having  now  conducted  the  heroine  of  the  protestant  party  to 
the  dismal  abode  which  she  was  destined  for  a  time  to  occupy,  it 
will  be  proper  to  revert  to  the  period  of  Mary's  accession. 

Little  more  than  eight  months  had  yet  elapsed  from  the  death, 
of  Edward ;  but  this  short  interval  had  sufficed  to  change  the 
whole  face  of  the  English  court ;  to  alter  the  most  important  re- 
lations of  the  country  with  foreign  states ;  and  to  restore  in  great 
measure  the  ancient  religion,  which  it  had  been  the  grand  object 
of  the  former  reign  finally  and  totally  to  overthrow.  It  is  the  bu- 
siness of  the  historian  to  record  the  series  of  public  measures  by 
which  this  calamitous  revolution  was  accomplished  :  the  humbler 
but  not  uninteresting  task,  of  tracing  its  effects  on  the  fortunes  of 
eminent  individuals,  belongs  to  the  compiler  of  memoirs,  and 
forms  an  appropriate  accompaniment  to  the  relation  of  the  perils, 
sufferings,  and  obloquy,  through  which  the  heiress  of  the  English 
crown  passed  on  safely  to  the  accomplishment  of  her  high  desti- 
nies. 

The  liberation  of  the  state  prisoners  confined  in  the  Tower — 
an  act  of  grace  usual  on  the  accession  of  a  prince — was  one  which 
the  causes  of  detention  of  the  greater  part  of  them  rendered  it 
peculiarly  gratifying  to  Mary  to  perform.  The  enemies  of  Henry's 
or  of  Edward's  government  she  regarded  with  reason  as  her  friends 
and  partisans,  and  the  adherents,  open  or  concealed,  of  that  church 
establishment  which  was  to  be  forced  back  on  the  reluctant  con- 
sciences of  the  nation. 

The  most  illustrious  of  the  caotives  was  that  aged  duke  of 
Norfolk,  whom  the  tyrant  Henry  had  condemned  to  die  without 


76 


THE  COURT  OF 


a  crime,  and  who  had  been  suffered  to  languish  in  confinement 
during  the  whole  reign  of  Edward  ;  chiefly,  it  is  probable,  be- 
cause the  forfeiture  of  his  vast  estates  afforded  a  welcome  supply 
to  the  exhausted  treasury  of  the  young  king ;  though  the  exten- 
sive influence  of  this  nobleman,  and  the  attachment  for  the  old 
religion  which  he  was  believed  to  cherish,  had  served  as  plausi- 
ble pretexts  for  his  detention.  His  high  birth,  his  hereditary  au- 
thority, his  religious  predilections,  were  so  many  titles  of  merit 
in  the  eyes  of  the  new  queen,  who  was  also  desirous  of  profiting 
by  his  abilities  and  long  experience  in  all  affairs  civil  and  mili- 
tary. Without  waiting  for  the  concurrence  of  parliament,  she 
declared  by  her  own  authority  his  attainder  irregular  and  null, 
restored  to  him  such  of  his  lands  as  remained  vested  in  the  crown, 
and  proceeded  to  reinstate  him  in  offices  and  honours.  On 
August  luth  he  took  his  seat  at  the  council-board  of  the  eighth 
English  monarch  whose  reign  he  had  survived  to  witness  ;  on  the 
same  day  he  was  solemnly  reinvested  with  the  garter,  of  which  he 
had  been  deprived  on  his  attainder ;  and  a  few  days  after,  he  sat 
as  lord -high -steward  on  the  trial  of  that  very  duke  of  Northum- 
berland to  whom,  not  long  before,  his  friends  and  adherents  had 
been  unsuccessful  suitors  for  his  own  liberation. 

There  is  extant  a  remarkable  order  of  council,  dated  August 
27th  of  this  year,  "  for  a  letter  to  be  written  to  the  countess  of 
Surry  to  send  up  to  Mountjoy  Place,  in  London,  her  youngest 
son,  and  the  rest  of  her  children,  by  the  earl  of  Surry,  where 
they  shall  be  received  by  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  their  grand- 
father."* It  may  be  conjectured  that  these  young  people  were 
thus  authoritatively  consigned  to  the  guardianship  of  the  duke, 
for  the  purpose  of  correcting  the  protestant  predilections  in 
which  they  had  been  educated;  and  the  circumstance  seems  also 
to  indicate,  what  indeed  might  be  well  imagined,  that  little  har- 
mony or  intercourse  subsisted  between  this  nobleman  and  a 
daughter-in-law  whom  he  had  formerly  sought  to  deprive  of  her 
husband  in  order  to  form  for  him  a  new  and  more  advantageous 
connection. 

The  eldest  son  of  the  earl  of  Surry,  now  in  the  seventeenth 
year  of  his  age,  was  honoured  with  the  title  of  his  father  ;  and 
he  began  his  distinguished,  though  unfortunate  career,  by  per- 
forming, as  deputy  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the  office  of  earl- 
marshal  at  the  queen's  coronation.  On  the  first  alarm  of  Wyat's 
rebellion,  the  veteran  duke  was  summoned  to  march  out  against 
him  ;  but  his  measures,  which  otherwise  promised  success,  were 
completely  foiled  by  the  desertion  of  the  London  bands  to  the 
insurgents  ;  and  the  last  military  expedition  of  his  life  was  des- 
tined to  conclude  with  a  hasty  and  ignominious  flight.  He  soon 
after  withdrew  entirely  from  the  fatigues  of  public  life,  and  after 
all  the  vicissitudes  of  court  and  camp,  palace  and  prison,  with 
which  the  lapse  of  eighty  eventful  years  had  rendered  him 
acquainted,  calmly  breathed  his  last  at  his  own  castle  of  Fram- 
iingham  in  September,  1554. 

*  See  Burleigh  Papers  by  Raynes. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


77 


Three  deprived  bishops  were  released  from  the  Tower,  and 
restored  with  honour  to  their  sees.  These  were,  Tonstal  of  Dur- 
ham, Gardiner  of  Winchester,  and  Bonner  of  London.  Tonstal, 
many  of  whose  younger  years  had  been  spent  in  diplomatic  mis- 
sions, was  distinguished  in  Europe  by  his  erudition,  which  had 
gained  him  the  friendship  and  correspondence  of  Erasmus;  he 
was  also  mild,  charitable,  and  of  unblemished  morals.  Attached 
by  principle  to  the  faith  of  his  forefathers,  but  loth  either  to  in- 
cur personal  hazard,  or  to  sacrifice  the  almost  princely  emolu- 
ments of  the  see  of  Durham,  he  had  contented  himself  with  regu- 
larly opposing  in  the  house  of  lords  all  the  ecclesiastical  inno- 
vations of  Edward's  reign,  and  as  regularly  given  them  his  con- 
currence when  once  established.    It  was  not,  therefore,  profes- 
sedly on  a  religious  account  (hat  he  had  suffered  deprivation 
and  imprisonment,  but  on  an  obscure  charge  of  having  partici- 
pated in  some  traitorous  or  rebellious  design :  a  charge  brought 
against  him,  in  the  opinion  of  most,  falsely,  and  through  the  cor- 
rupt procurement  of  Northumberland,  to  whose  project  of  erect- 
ing the  bishopric  of  Durham  into  a  county  palatine  for  himself, 
the  deprivation  of  Tonstal,  and  the  abolition  of  the  see  by  act  of 
parliament,  were  indispensable  preliminaries.    This  meek  and 
amiable  prelate  returned  to  the  exercise  of  his  high  functions, 
without  a  wish  of  revenging  on  the  protestants,  in  their  adversity, 
the  painful  acts  of  disingenuousness  which  their  late  ascendency 
had  forced  upon  him.    During  the  whole  of  Mary's  reign,  no 
person  is  recorded  to  have  suffered  for  religion  within  the  limits 
of  his  diocess.    The  mercy  which  he  had  shown,  he  afterwards 
most  deservedly  experienced.    Refusing  on  the  accession  of 
Elizabeth,  to  preserve  his  mitre  by  a  repetition  of  compliances 
of  which  so  many  recent  examples  of  conscientious  suffering  in 
men  of  both  persuasions  must  have  rendered  him  ashamed,  he 
suffered  a  second  deprivation  ;  but  his  person  was  only  com- 
mitted to  the  honourable  custody  of  archbishop  Parker.    By  this 
learned  and  munificent  prelate  the  acquirements  and  virtues  of 
Tonstal  were  duly  appreciated  and  esteemed.    He  found  at 
Lambeth  a  retirement  suited  to  his  age,  his  taste,  his  favourite 
pursuits  ;  by  the  arguments  of  his  friendly  host  he  was  brought 
to  renounce  several  of  the  grosser  corruptions  of  popery ;  and  dy- 
ing in  the  year  1560,  an  honourable  monument  was  erected  by 
the  primate  to  his  memory. 

With  views  and  sentiments  how  opposite  did  Gardiner  and 
Bonner  resume  the  crosier  !  A  deep-rooted  conviction  of  the 
truth  and  vjtai  importance  of  the  religious  opinions  which  he 
defends,  supplies  to  the  persecutor  the  only  apology  of  which 
his  foolish  and  atrocious  barbarity  admits  ;  and  to  men  naturally 
mild  and  candid,  we  feel  a  consolation  in  allowing  it  in  all  its 
force  ; — but  by  no  particle  of  such  indulgence  should  Bonner  or 
Gardiner  be  permitted  to  benefit.  It  would  be  credulity,  not 
candour,  to  yield  to  either  of  these  bad  men  the  character  of 
sincere,  though  over  zealous,  religionists.  True  it  is  that  they 
had  subjected  themselves  to  the  loss  of  their  bishoprics,  and  to  a 


THE  COURT  OF 


severe  imprisonment,  by  a  refusal  to  give  in  their  renunciation 
of  certain  doctrines  of  the  Romish  church ;  but  they  had  previ- 
ously gone  much  further  in  compliance  than  conscience  would 
allow  to  any  real  catholic :  and  they  appear  to  have  stopped 
short  in  this  career  only  because  they  perceived  in  the  council 
such  a  determination  to  strip  them,  under  one  pretext  or  another, 
of  all  their  preferments,  as  manifestly  rendered  further  compli- 
ance useless.  Both  of  them  had  policy  enough  to  restrain  them, 
under  such  circumstances,  from  degading  their  characters  gra- 
tuitously, and  depriving  themselves  of  the  merit  of  having 
suffered  for  a  faith  which  might  soon  become  again  predomi- 
nant. They  received  their  due  reward  in  the  favour  of  Mary, 
who  recognised  them  with  joy  as  the  fit  instruments  of  all  her 
bloody  and  tyrannical  designs,  to  which  Gardiner  supplied  the 
crafty  and  contriving  head,  Bonner  the  vigorous  and  unsparing 
arm. 

The  proud  wife  of  the  protector  Somerset, — who  had  been  im- 
prisoned, but  never  brought  to  trial,  as  an  accomplice  in  her  hus- 
band's plots, — was  now  dismissed  to  a  safe  insignificance.  The 
marchioness  of  Exeter,  against  whom,  in  Henry's  reign,  an  at- 
tainder had  passed  too  iniquitous  for  even  him  to  carry  into 
effect,  was  also  rescued  from  her  long  captivity,  and  indemni- 
fied for  the  loss  of  her  property  by  some  valuable  grants  from 
the  new  confiscations  of  the  Dudleys  and  their  adherents. 

The  only  state  prisoner  to  whom  the  door  was  not  opened  on 
this  occasion  was  Geffrey  Pole,  that  base  betrayer  of  his  brother 
and  his  friends  by  whose  evidence  lord  Montacute  and  the  mar- 
quis of  Exeter  had  been  brought  to  an  untimely  end.  It  is  some 
satisfaction  to  know,  that  the  commutation  of  death  for  perpe- 
tual imprisonment  was  all  the  favour  which  this  wretch  obtained 
from  Henry ;  that  neither  Edward  nor  Mary  broke  his  bonds ; 
and  that,  as  far  as  appears,  his  punishment  ended  only  with  his 
miserable  existence. 

Not  long,  however,  were  these  dismal  abodes  suffered  to  re- 
main unpeopled.  The  failure  of  the  criminal  enterprise  of 
Northumberland  first  filled  the  Tower  with  the  associates,  or 
victims,  of  his  guilt.  Nearly  the  whole  of  the  Dudley  family  were 
its  tenants  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time  ;  and  it  was  another  re- 
markable coincidence  of  their  destinies,  which  Elizabeth  in  the 
after  days  of  her  power  and  glory  might  have  pleasure  in  recal- 
ling to  her  favourite  Leicester,  that  during  the  whole  of  her  cap- 
tivity in  this  fortress  he  also  was  included  in  the  number  of  its 
melancholy  inmates.  * 

The  places  of  Tonstal,  Gardiner,  and  Bonner,  were  soon  after 
supplied  by  the  more  zealous  of  Edward's  bishops,  Holgate,  Co- 
verdale,  Ridley,  and  Hooper ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the 
vehement  Latimer  and  even  the  cautious  Cranmer  were  added 
to  their  suffering  brethren. 

The  queen  made  no  difficulty  of  pardoning  and  receiving  into 
favour  those  noblemen  and  others,  members  of  the  privy-council, 
whom  a  base  dread  of  the  resentment  of  Northumberland  had 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  79 

driven  into  compliance  with  his  measures  in  favourof  Jane  Grey  ; 
wisely  considering,  perhaps,  that  the  men  who  had  submitted  to 
be  the  instruments  of  his  violent  and  illegal  proceedings,  would 
feel  little  hesitation  in  lending  their  concurrence  to  hers  also. 
On  this  principle,  the  marquis  of  Winchester  and  the  earls  of 
Arundel  and  Pembroke  were  employed  and  distinguished;  the 
last  of  these  experienced  courtiers  making  expiation  for  his  past 
errors,  by  causing  his  son,  lord  Herbert,  to  divorce  the  lady 
Catherine  Grey,  to  whom  it  had  so  lately  suited  his  political 
views  to  unite  him. 

Sir  James  Hales,  on  the  contrary,  that  conscientious  and  up- 
right judge,  who  alone,  of  all  the  privy-counsellors  and  crown- 
lawyers,  had  persisted  in  refusing  his  signature  to  the  act  by 
which  Mary  was  disinherited  of  the  crown,  found  himself  unre- 
warded and  even  discountenanced.  The  queen  well  knew,  what 
probably  the  judge  was  not  inclined  to  deny,  that  it  was  attach- 
ment, not  to  her  person,  but  to  the  constitution  of  his  country, 
which  had  prompted  his  resistance  to  that  violation  of  the  legal 
order  of  succession  ;  and  had  it  even  been  otherwise,  she  would 
have  regarded  all  her  obligations  to  him  as  effectually  cancelled 
by  his  zealous  adherence  to  the  church  establishment  of  the  pre- 
ceding reign.  For  daring  to  urge  upon  the  grand  juries  whom 
he  addressed  in  his  circuit,  the  execution  of  some  of  Edward's 
laws  in  matter  of  religion,  yet  unrepealed,  judge  Hales  was  soon 
after  thrown  into  prison.  He  endured  with  constancy  the  suf- 
ferings of  a  long  and  rigorous  confinement,  aggravated  by  the 
threats  and  ill-treatment  of  a  cruel  jailor.  At  length  some  per- 
sons in  authority  were  sent  to  propound  to  him  terms  of  release. 
It  is  suspected  that  they  extorted  from  him  some  concessions  on 
the  point  of  religion ;  for  immediately  after  their  departure,  re- 
tiring to  his  cell,  in  a  fit  of  despair  he  stabbed  himself  with  his 
knife  in  different  parts  of  the  body,  and  was  only  withheld  by 
the  sudden  entrance  of  his  servant  from  inflicting  a  mortal  wound. 
Bishop  Gardiner  had  the  barbarity  to  insult  over  the  agony  or 
distraction  of  a  noble  spirit  overthrown  by  persecution ;  he  even 
converted  his  solitary  act  into  a  general  reflection  against  pro- 
testantism, which  he  called  "the  doctrine  of  desperation.'' 
Some  time  after,  Hales  obtained  his  enlargement  on  payment  of 
an  arbitrary  fine  of  six  thousand  pounds.  But  he  did  not  with 
his  liberty  recover  his  peace  of  mind  ;  and  after  struggling  for  a, 
few  months  with  an  unconquerable  melancholy,  he  sought  and 
found  its  final  cure  in  the  waters  of  a  pond  in  his  garden. 

No  blood  except  of  principals,  was  shed  by  Mary  on  account 
of  the  proclamation  of  Jane  Grey ;  but  she  visited  with  lower 
degrees  of  punishment,  secretly  proportioned  to  the  zeal  which 
they  had  displayed  in  the  reformation  of  religion,  several  of  the 
more  eminent  partisans  of  this  "meek  usurper."  The  three 
tutors  of  king  Edward,  sir  Anthony  Cook,  sir  John  Cheke  and 
Dr.  Cox,  were  sufficiently  implicated  in  this  affair  to  warrant 
their  imprisonment  for  some  time  on  suspicion  ;  and  all  were 
eager,  on  their  release,  to  shelter  themselves  from  the  approach- 
ing storm  by  flight. 


so 


THE  COURT  OF 


Cheke,  after  confiscation  of  his  estate,  obtained  permission  to 
travel  for  a  given  time  on  the  continent.  Strasburgh  was  se- 
lected by  Cook  for  his  place  of  exile.  The  wise  moderation  of 
character  by  which  this  excellent  person  was  distinguished, 
seems  to  have  preserved  him  from  taking  any  part  in  the  angry 
contentions  of  protestant  with  protestant,  exile  with  exile,  by 
which  the  refugees  of  Strasburgh  and  Frankfort  scandalised  their 
brethren  and  afforded  matter  of  triumph  to  the  church  of  Rome. 
On  the  accession  of  Elizabeth  he  returned  with  alacrity  to  re- 
occupy  and  embellish  the  modest  mansion  of  his  forefathers,  and 
"  through  the  loop-holes  of  retreat"  to  view  with  honest  exultation 
the  high  career  of  public  fortune  run  by  his  two  illustrious  sons- 
in-law,  Nicholas  Bacon  and  William  Cecil. 

The  enlightened  views  of  society  taken  by  sir  Anthony  led 
him  to  extend  to  his  daughters  the  noblest  privileges  of  the  other 
sex,  those  which  concern  the  early  and  systematic,  acquisition 
of  solid  knowledge.  Through  his  admirable  instructions  their 
minds  were  stored  with  learning,  strengthened  with  principles, 
and  formed  to  habits  of  reasoning  and  observation,  which  ren- 
dered them  the  worthy  partners  of  great  statesmen,  who  knew 
and  felt  their  value.  The  fame,  too,  of  these  distinguished  fe- 
males has  reflected  back  additional  lustre  on  the  character  of  a 
father,  who  was  wont  to  say  to  them  in  the  noble  confidence  of 
unblemished  integrity,  "  My  life  is  your  portion,  my  example 
your  inheritance." 

Dr.  Cox  was  quite  another  manner  of  man.  Repairing  first 
to  Strasburgh,  where  the  English  exiles  had  formed  themselves 
into  a  congregation  using  the  liturgy  of  the  church  of  England, 
he  went  thence  to  Frankfort,  another  city  of  refuge  to  his  coun- 
trymen at  this  period  ;  where  the  intolerance  of  his  zeal  against 
such  as  more  inclined  to  the  form  of  worship  instituted  by  the 
Genevan  reformer,  embarked  him  in  a  violent  quarrel  with  John 
Knox,  against  whom,  on  pretext  of  his  having  libelled  the  em- 
peror, he  found  means  to  kindle  the  resentment  of  the  magi- 
strates, who  compelled  him  to  quit  the  city.  After  this  disgrace- 
ful victory  over  a  brother  reformer  smarting  under  the  same 
scourge  of  persecution  with  himself,  he  returned  to  Strasburgh, 
where  he  more  laudably  employed  himself  in  establishing  a  kind 
of  English  university. 

His  zeal  for  the  church  of  England,  his  sufferings  in  the 
cause,  and  his  services  to  learning,  obtained,  for  him  from 
Elizabeth  the  bishopric  of  Ely  ;  but  neither  party  enjoyed  from 
this  appointment  all  the  satisfaction  which  might  have  been  an- 
ticipated. The  courage,  perhaps  the  self  opinion,  of  Dr.  Cox,  en- 
gaged him  on  several  occasions  in  opposition  to  the  measures  of 
the  queen ;  and  his  narrow  and  persecuting  spirit  involved  him 
in  perpetual  disputes  and  animosities,  which  rendered  the  close 
of  a  long  life  turbulent  and  unhappy,  and  took  from  his  learning 
and  gray  hairs  their  due  reverence.  The  rapacity  of  the  cour- 
tiers, who  obtained  grant  after  grant  of  the  lands  belonging  to 
his  bishopric,  was  another  fruitful  source  to  him  of  vexation  : 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


81 


and  he  had  actually  tendered  the  resignation  of  his  see  on  very 
humiliating  terms,  when  death  caine  to  his  relief  in  the  year 
1581,  the  eighty-second  of  his  age. 

If  in  this  and  a  few  other  instances,  the  polemical  zeal  natural 
to  men  who  had  sacrificed  their  worldly  all  for  the  sake  of  re- 
ligion, was  observed  to  degenerate  among  the  refugees  into  per- 
sonal quarrels  disgraceful  to  themselves  and  injurious  to  their 
noble  cause,  it  ought  on  the  other  hand  to  be  observed,  that  some 
of  the  firmest  and  most  affectionate  friendships  of  the  age  were 
formed  amongst  these  companions  in  adversity;  and  that  by  many 
who  attained  under  Elizabeth  the  highest  preferments  and  dis- 
tinctions, the  title  of  fellow-exile  never  ceased  to  be  regarded  as 
the  most  sacred  and  endearing  bond  of  brotherhood. 

Other  opportunities  will  arise  of  commemorating  some  of  the 
more  eminent  of  the  clergy  who  renounced  their  country  during 
the  persecutions  of  Mary ;  but  respecting  the  laity,  it  may 
here  be  remarked,  that  with  the  exception  of  Catherine  duchess- 
dowager  of  Suffolk,  not  a  single  person  of  quality  was  found  in 
this  list  of  conscientious  sufferers ;  though  one  peer,  probably 
the  earl  of  Bedford,  underwent  imprisonment  on  a  religious  ac- 
count at  home.  Of  the  higher  gentry,  however,  there  were  con- 
siderable numbers  who  either  went  and  established  themselves 
in  the  protestant  cities  of  Germany,  or  passed  away  the  time  in 
travelling. 

Sir  Francis  Knowles,  whose  lady  was  niece  to  Anne  Boleyn, 
took  the  former  part,  residing  with  his  eldest  son  at  Frankfort ; 
Walsingham  adopted  the  latter.  With  the  views  of  a  future 
minister  of  state,  he  visited  in  succession  the  principal  courts  of 
Europe,  where  he  employed  his  diligence  and  sagacity  in  laying 
the  foundations  of  that  intimate  knowledge  of  their  policy  and 
resources  by  which  he  afterwards  rendered  his  services  so  im- 
portant to  his  queen  and  country. 


s  THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  VII. 

1554  and  1555. 

Arrival  of  Wyat  and  his  associates  at  the  Tower. — Savage  treat 
merit  of  them. — Further  instances  of  Mary's  severity. — Duke  of 
Suffolk  beheaded. — Death  of  lady  Jane  Grey — of  Wyat,  who 
clears  Elizabeth  of  all  share  in  his  designs, — Trial  of  Throg- 
morton. — Bill  for  the  exclusion  of  Elizabeth  thrown  out. — 
Parliament  protects  her  rights — is  dissolved. — Rigorous  con- 
finement of  Elizabeth  in  the  Tower. — She  is  removed  under 
guard  of  Bedding  field — carried  to  Richmond — offered  liberty 
with  the  hand  of  the  duke  of  Savoy — refuses — is  carried  to 
Ricot,  thence  prisoner  to  Woodstock. — Anecdotes  of  her  beha- 
viour.— Cruelty  of  Gardiner  towards  her  attendants. —  Verses 
by  Harrington. — Marriage  of  the  queen. — Alarms  of  the  pro 
testants. — Arrival  of  cardinal  Pole. — Popery  restored.— ?  Perse- 
cution begun. — King  Philip  procures  the  liberation  of  state 
prisoners. — Earl  of  Devon  travels  into  Raly — dies — Obligation 
of  Elizabeth  to  Philip  discussed. —  She  is  invited  to  court — 
keeps  her  Christmas  there — returns  to  Woodstock — is  brought 
again  to  court  by  Philip' *s  intercession. — Gardiner  urges  her 
to  make  submissions,  but  in  vain. — She  is  brought  to  the  queen 
—permitted  to  reside  without  guards  at  one  of  the  royal  seats— 
finally  settled  at  Hatfield. — Character  of  sir  Thomas  Pope — 
Notice  of  the  Harringtons. — Philip  quits  England. — Death  of 
Gardiner. 

IT  is  now  proper  to  return  to  circumstances  more  closely 
connected  with  the  situation  of  Elizabeth  at  this  eventful  period 
of  her  life. 

Two  or  three  weeks  before  her  arrival  in  the  Tower,  Wyat, 
with  some  of  his  principal  adherents  had  been  carried  thither. 
Towards  these  unhappy  persons,  none  of  those  decencies  of  be 
haviour  were  observed  which  the  sex  and  rank  of  Elizabeth  had 
commanded  from  the  ministers  of  her  sister's  severity ;  and  Ho- 
linshed's  circumstantial  narrative  of  the  circumstances  attend  - 
ing their  committal,  may  be  cited  as  an  instructive  example  of 
the  fierce  and  brutal  manners  of  the  age. 

"  Sir  Philip  Denny  received  them  at  the  bulwark,  and  as  Wyat 
passed  by,  he  said,  '  Go,  traitor,  there  was  never  such  a  traitor 
in  England.'  To  whom  sir  Thomas  Wyat  turned  and  said,  lam 
no  traitor  ;  I  would  thou  shouldest  well  know  that  thou  art  more 
traitor  than  I ;  it  is  not  the  point  of  an  honest  man  to  call  me 
so."  And  so  went  forth.  When  he  came  to  the  Tower  gate,  sir 
Thomas  Bridges,  lieutenant,  took  in  through  the  wicket  first 
Mantel],  and  said,  «Ah,  thou  traitor!  what  hast  thou  and  thy 
company  wrought  ?'    But  he,  holding  down  his  head,  said  no- 


QUKKN  ELIZABETH. 


thing.  Then  came  Thomas  Knevet,  whom  master  Chamberlain, 
gentleman -porter  of  (lie  Tower,  took  in.  Then  came  Alexander 
Bret,  (captain  of  the  white  coats,)  whom  sir  Thomas  Pope  took 
by  the  bosom,  saying,  ' 0  traitor!  how  could st  thou  find  in  thy 
heart  to  work  such  a  villainy  as  to  take  wages,  and  being  trusted 
over  a  band  of  men,  to  fall  to  her  enemies,  returning  against  her 
in  battle  ?'  Bret  answered,  « Yea,  I  have  offended  in  that  case." 
Then  came  Thomas  Cobham,  whom,  sir  Thomas  Poins  took  in, 
and  said  ;  '  Alas,  master  Cobham,  what  wind  headed  you  to  work 
such  treason  ?'  And  he  answered,  '  0  sir  !  I  was  seduced.'  Then 
came  sir  Thomas  Wyat,  whom  sir  Thomas  Bridges  took  by  the 
collar,  and  said;  "O  thou  villain!  how  couldst  thou  find  in  thy 
heart  to  work  such  detestable  treason  to  the  queen's  majesty, 
who  gave  thee  thy  life  and  living  once  already,  although  thou 
didst  before  this  time  bear  arms  in  the  field  against  her  If 
it  were  not  (saith  he)  but  that  the  law  must  pass  upon  thee,  I 
would  stick  thee  through  with  my  dagger.'  To  the  which,  Wyat, 
holding  his  arms  under  his  sides  and  looking  grievously  with  a 
grim  look  upon  the  lieutenant,  said,  *  It  is  no  mastery  now ;'  and 
so  passed  on." 

Other  circumstances  attending  the  suppression  of  this  rebellion 
mark  with  equal  force  the  stern  and  vindictive  spirit  of  Mary's  go- 
vernment, and  the  remaining  barbarity  of  English  customs.  The. 
inhabitants  of  London  being  for  the  most  part  protestants  and 
well  affected,  as  the  defection  of  their  trained  bands  had  proved  , 
to  the  cause  of  Wyat,  it  was  thought  expedient  to  admonish  them 
of  the  fruits  of  rebellion  by  the  gibbeting  of  about  sixty  of  his 
followers  in  the  most  public  parts  of  the  city.  Neither  were  the 
bodies  suffered  to  be  removed  till  the  public  entry  of  king  Philip 
after  the  royal  nuptials ;  on  which  festal  occasion  the  streets 
were  cleared  of  these  noisome  objects  which  had  disgraced  them 
for  nearly  half  a  year. 

Some  hundreds  of  the  meaner  rebels,  to  whom  the  queen  was 
pleased  to  extend  her  mercy,  were  ordered  to  appear  before  her 
bound  two-and-two  together,  with  halters  about  their  necks  ;  and 
kneeling  before  her  in  this  guise,  they  received  her  gracious  par- 
don of  all  offences  ;  but  no  general  amnesty  was  ever  granted. 

That  the  rash  attempt  of  the  duke  of  Suffolk  should  have  been 
visited  upon  himself  by  capital  punishment,  is  neither  to  be  won- 
dered at  nor  censured  ;  but  it  was  a  foul  act  of  cruelty  to  make 
this  the  pretext  for  taking  away  the  lives  of  a  youthful  pair  en- 
tirely innocent  of  this  last  design,  and  forgiven,  as  it  was  fondly 
hoped,  for  the  almost  involuntary  part  which  they  had  taken  in 
a  former  and  more  criminal  enterprise.  But  religious  bigotry 
and  political  jealousy,  each  perhaps  sufficient  for  the  effect,  com- 
bined in  this  instance  to  urge  on  the  relentless  temper  of  Mary; 
and  the  lady  Jane  Grey  and  Guildford  Dudley,  her  husband,  were 

*  It  is  plain  that  Wyat  is  here  accused  of  having  taken  arms  for  Jane  Grey ; 
but  most  wrongfully,  if  Carte's  account,  of  him  is  to  be  credited,  which  there  seems  | 
no  reason  to  disbelieve. 


84 


THE  COURT  OF 


ordered  to  prepare  for  the  execution  of  the  sentence  which  had 
remained  suspended  over  them. 

Every  thinking  mind  must  have  been  shocked  at  the  vengeance 
taken  on  Guildford  Dudley, — a  youth  too  insignificant,  it  might 
be  thought,  to  call  forth  the  animadversion  of  the  most  appre- 
hensive government,  and  guilty  of  nothing  but  having  accepted, 
in  obedience  to  his  father's  pleasure,  the  hand  of  Jane  Grey. 
But  the  fate  of  this  distinguished  lady  herself  was  calculated  to 
awaken  stronger  feelings.  The  fortitude,  the  piety,  the  genuine 
humility  and  contrition  evinced  by  her  in  the  last  scene  of  an 
unsullied  life,  furnished  the  best  evidence  of  her  guiltlessness 
even  of  a  wish  to  resume  the  sceptre  which  paternal  authority 
had  once  forced  on  her  reluctant  grasp ;  and  few  could  witness 
the  piteous  spectacle  of  her  violent  and  untimely  end,  without 
a  thrill  of  indignant  horror,  and  secret  imprecations  against  the 
barbarity  of  her  unnatural  kinswoman. 

The  earl  of  Devonshire  was  still  detained  in  the  Tower  on 
Wyat's  information,  as  was  pretended,  and  on  other  indications 
of  guilt,  all  of  which  were  proved  in  the  end  equally  fallacious  : 
and  at  the  time  of  Elizabeth's  removal  hither  this  state-prison 
was  thronged  with  captives  of  minor  importance  implicated  in 
the  designs  of  Wyat.  These  were  assiduously  plied  on  one  hand 
with  offers  of  liberty  and  reward,  and  subjected  on  the  other  to 
the  most  rigorous  treatment,  the  closest  interrogatories,  and  one 
of  them  even  to  the  rack,  in  the  hope  of  eliciting  from  them  some 
evidence  which  might  reconcile  to  Mary's  conscience,  or  colour 
to  the  nation,  the  death  or  perpetual  imprisonment  of  a  sister 
whom  she  feared  and  hated. 

To  have  brought  her  to  criminate  herself  would  have  been 
better  still ;  and  no  pains  were  spared  for  this  purpose.  A  few 
days  after  her  committal,  Gardiner  and  other  privy-councillors 
came  to  examine  her  respecting  the  conversation  which  she  had 
held  with  sir  James  Croft  touching  her  removal  to  Donnington 
Castle.  She  said,  after  some  recollection,  that  she  had  indeed 
such  a  place,  but  that  she  never  occupied  it  in  her  life,  and  she 
did  not  remember  that  any  one  had  moved  her  so  to  do.  Then, 
"  to  enforce  the  matter,"  they  brought  forth  sir  James  Croft,  and 
Gardiner  demanded  what  she  had  to  say  to  that  man  ?  She  an- 
swered that  she  had  little  to  say  to  him  or  to  the  rest  that  were 
in  the  Tower.  "  But  my  lords,"  said  she,  "  you  do  examine 
every  mean  prisoner  of  me,  wherein  methinks  you  do  me  great 
injury.  If  they  have  done  evil  and  offended  the  queen's  ma- 
jesty, let  them  answer  to  it  accordingly.  I  beseech  you,  my 
lords,  join  not  me  in  this  sort  with  any  of  these  offenders.  And 
concerning  my  going  to  Donnington  Castle,  I  do  remember  that 
master  Hobby  and  mine  officers  and  you  sir  James  Croft  had 
such  talk  ; — but  what  is  that  to  the  purpose,  my  lords,  but  that 
I  may  go  to  mine  own  houses  at  all  times  ?"  The  earl  of  Arun- 
del kneeling  down  said,  "  Your  grace  sayeth  true,  and  certainly 
we  are  very  sorry  that  we  have  troubled  you  about  so  vain  mat- 
ter."   She  then  said,  "  My  lords,  you  do  sift  me  very  narrowly ; 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


85 


1mt  I  am  well  assured  you  shall  not  do  more  to  me  than  God 
h;ith  appointed,  and  so  God  forgive  you  all. 

Before  ♦heir  departure  sir  James  Croft  kneeled  down  before 
her,  declaring  that  he  was  sorry  to  see  the  day  in  which  he  should 
be  brought  as  a  witness  against  her  grace.  But  he  added,  that 
he  had  been  "marvellously  tossed  and  examined  touching  her 
grace  and  ended  by  protesting  his  innocence  of  the  crime 
laid  to  his  charge.* 

Wyat  was  at  length,  on  April  11th,  brought  to  his  death ; 
when  he  confounded  all  the  hopes  and  expectations  of  Eliza- 
beth's enemies,  by  strenuously  and  publicly  asserting  her  en- 
tire innocence  of  any  participation  in  his  designs. 

Sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton  was  brought  to  the  bar  immediately 
afterwards.  His  trial  at  length,  as  it  has  come  down  to  us  in 
Holinshed's  Chronicle,  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  documents 
of  that  nature  extant.  He  was  esteemed  "  a  deep  conspirator, 
whose  post  was  thought  to  be  at  London  as  a  factor,  to  give  in- 
telligence as  well  to  them  in  the  West,  as  to  Wyat  and  the  rest 
in  Kent.  It  was  believed  that  he  gave  notice  to  Wyat  to  come 
forward  with  his  power,  and  that  the  Londoners  would  be  ready 
to  take  his  part.  And  that  he  sent  a  post  to  sir  Peter  Carew 
also,  to  advance  with  as  much  speed  as  might  be,  and  to  bring 
his  forces  with  him. 

"  He  was  said  moreover  to  be  the  man  that  excited  the  earl 
of  Devon  to  go  down  into  the  W est,  and  that  sir  James  Croft 
and  he  had  many  times  consulted  about  the  whole  matter."! 

To  these  political  offences,  sir  Nicholas  added  religious  prin- 
ciples still  more  heinous  in  the  eyes  of  Mary.  He,  with  two 
other  gentlemen  of  his  family,  had  been  of  the  number  of  those 
who  attended  to  the  stake  that  noble  martyr  Anne  Askew, 
burned  for  heresy  in  the  latter  end  of  Henry's  reign  ;  when  they 
were  bid  to  take  care  of  their  lives,  for  they  were  all  marked 
men.  Since  the  accession  of  Mary  also  he  had  "bemoaned  to 
his  friend  sir  Edward  Warner,  late  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  his 
own  estate  and  the  tyranny  of  the  times  extending  upon  divers 
honest  persons  for  religion,  and  wished  it  were  lawful  for  all  ot 
each  religion  to  live  safely  according  to  their  conscience.  For 
the  law  ex-officio  he  said  would  be  intolerable,  and  the  clergy 
discipline  now  might  rather  be  resembled  to  the  Turkish  tyranny 
than  the  teaching  of  the  Christian  religion.  Which  words  he 
was  not  afraid  at  his  trial  openly  to  acknowledge  that  he  had 
said  to  the  said  Warner."^ 

The  prosecution  was  conducted  with  all  the  inqiuity  which  the 
corrupt  practice  of  that  age  admitted.  Not  only  was  the  pri- 
soner debarred  the  assistance  of  counsel  on  his  trial,  he  was 
even  refused  the  privilege  of  calling  a  single  witness  in  his  fa- 
vour. He  defended  himself  however  under  all  these  disadvan- 
tages, with  surprising  skill,  boldness  and  presence  of  mind  ;  and 

*  Fox's  narrative  in  Holinshed.      $  Strype's  Ecclesiatical  Memorials, 
■j-  Strype's  Ecclesiastical  Memorials. 


THE  COURT  Ofr 


he  retorted  with  becoming  spirit  the  brutal  taunts  of  the  crown 
lawyers  and  judges,  who  disgraced  themselves  on  the  occasion 
by  all  the  excesses  of  an  unprincipled  servility.  Fortunately 
for  Throgmorton,  the  additional  clauses  to-  the -treason  laws 
added  under  Henry  VIII.  had  been  abolished  under  his  succes- 
sor and  were  not  yet  re-enacted.  Only  the  clear  and  equitable 
statute  of  Edward  III.  remained  therefore  in  force ;  and  the 
lawyers  were  reduced  to  endeavour  at  such  an  explanation  of 
it  as  should  comprehend  a  kind  of  constructive  treason.  "  If," 
said  they,  "it  be  proved  that  the  prisoner  was  connected  with 
Wyat,  and  of  his  counsel,  the  overt  acts  of  Wyat  are  to  be  taken 
as  his,  and  visited  accordingly."  But  besides  that  no  participa- 
tion with  Wyat  after  he  had  taken  up  arms,  was  proved  upon 
Throgmorton,  the  jury  were  moved  by  his  solemn  protest  against 
so  unwarrantable  a  principle  as  that  the  overt  acts  of  one  man 
might  be  charged  as  overt  acts  upon  another.  They  acquitted 
him  therefore  with  little  hesitation,  to  the  inexpressible  disap- 
pointment and  indignation  of  the  queen  and  her  ministers,  who 
then  possessed  the  power  of  making  their  displeasure  on  such 
an  occasion  deeply  felt.  The  jury  were  immediately  committed 
to  custody,  and  eight  of  them,  who  refused  to  confess  themselves 
in  fault,  were  further  imprisoned  for  several  months  and  heavily 
lined. 

The  acquitted  person  himself,  in  defiance  of  all  law  and  jus- 
tice, was  remanded  to  the  Tower,  and  did  not  regain  his  liberty 
till  the  commencement  of  the  following  year,  when  the  inter- 
cession of  king  Philip  obtained  the  liberation  of  almost  all  the 
prisoners  there  detained. 

Throgmorton,  like  all  the  others  called  in  question  for  the 
late  insurrections,  was  closely  questioned  respecting  Elizabeth 
and  the  earl  of  Devon;  "and  very  fain,"  we  are  told,  "the 
privy-councillors  employed  in  this  work  would  have  got  out  of 
him  something  against  them.  For  when  at  Throgmorton's  trial, 
his  writing  containing  his  confession  was  read  in  open  court,  he 
prayed  the  queen's  serjeant  that  was  reading  it  to  read  further, 
*  that  hereafter,'  said  he,  '  whatsoever  become  of  me,  my  words 
may  not  be  perverted  and  abused  to  the  hurt  of  some  others, 
and  especially  against  the  great  personages  of  whom  I  have  been 
sundry  times,  as  appears  by  my  answers,  examined.  For  I  per- 
ceive the  net  was  not  cast  only  for  little  fishes  but  for  great 
ones."* 

This  generous  concern  for  the  safety  of  Elizabeth  in  the  midst 
of  his  own  perils  appears  not  to  have  been  lost  upon  her;  and 
under  the  ensuing  reign  we  shall  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
the  abilities  of  sir  Nicholas  displayed  in  other  scenes  and  under 
happier  auspices. 

All  manifestations  of  popular  favour  towards  those  whom  the 
court  had  proscribed  and  sought  to  ruin,  were  at  this  juncture 
visited  with  the  extreme  of  arbitrary  severity.    Two  merchant? 

*  Strype's  Memorials. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


87 


ol  London,  for  words  injurious  to  the  queen,  but  principally  for 
having affirmed  that  Wyat  at  bis  death  had  cleared  the  lady 
Elizabeth  and  the  earl  of  Devonshire,  were  set  in  the  pillory,  to 
which  their  ears  were  fastened  with  large  nails. 

It  was  in  fact  an  object  of  great  importance  to  the  catholic 
part)  to  keep  up  the  opinion,  so  industriously  inculcated,  of  the 
princess  being  implicated  in  the  late  disturbances  ;  since  it  was 
only  on  this  talse  pretext  that  she  could  be  detained  close  pri- 
soner m  the  Tower  while  a  fatal  stroke  was  aimed  against  her 
rights  and  interests. 

Gardiner,  now  chancellor  and  prime  minister,  tlu  most  inve-. 
terate  of  Elizabeth's  enemies  and  the  most  devotee  partisan  of 
the  Spanish  interest,  thinking  that  all  was  subdued  t>  the  wishes 
of  the  court,  brought  before  the  new  parliament  a  bill  for  de- 
claring the  princess  illegitimate  and  incapable  of  succeeding: — 
it  was  indignantly  rejected,  however,  by  a  great  mijority ;  but 
the  failure  only  admonished  him  to  renew  the  attacc  in  a  more 
indirect  and  covert  manner.  Accordingly,  the  aricles  of  the 
marriage  treaty  between  Mary  and  the  prince  of  Sjain,  artfully 
drawn  with  great  seeming  advantage  to  England,  hid  no  sooner 
received  the  assent  of  the  two  houses,  than  he  pro>osed  a  law 
for  conferring  upon  the  queen  the  same  power  enpyed  by  her 
father ;  that  of  naming  a  successor.  But  neither  ould  this  be 
obtained  from  a  house  of  commons  attached  for  the  most  part  to 
the  protestant  cause  and  the  person  of  the  rightiil  heir,  and 
justly  apprehensive  of  the  extinction  of  their  fev  remaining 
privileges  under  the  yoke  of  a  detested  foreign  tyrait.  Nobody 
doubted  that  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  queen,  in  cefault  of  im- 
mediate issue  of  her  own,  to  bequeath  the  crown  toiler  husband^ 
whose  descent  from  a  daughter  of  John  of  Gaunt  lad  been  al- 
ready much  insisted  on  by  his  adherents.  The  bil  was  there- 
fore thrown  out ;  and  the  alarm  excited  by  its  introduction  had 
caused  the  house  to  pass  several  spirited  resolutons,  one  of 
which  declared  that  her  majesty  should  reign  as  i  sole  queen 
without  any  participation  of  her  authority,  while  the  :est  guarded 
in  various  points  against  the  anticipated  encroachnents  of  Phi- 
lip, when  Mary  thought  good,  to  put  a  stop  to  the  further  dis- 
cussion of  the  subject  by  a  prorogation  of  parliament 

After  these  manifold  disappointments,  the  court  pa*ty  was  com- 
pelled to  give  up,  with  whatever  reluctance,  its  deip-Iaid  plots 
against  the  unoffending  princess.  Her  own  prudence  lad  protected 
her  life  ;  and  the  independent  spirit  of  a  house  of  ommons  con- 
scious of  speaking  the  sense  of  the  nation  guarantied  her  suc- 
cession. One  only  resource  remained  to  Gardiner  and  his  fac- 
tion : — they  judged  that  a  long-continued  absence,  while  it  gra- 
tlually  loosened  her  hold  upon  the  affections  of  the  people,  would 
afford  many  facilities  for  injuring  or  supplanting  her ;  and  it  was 
determined  soon  to  provide  for  her  a  kind  of  honourable  banish- 
ment. 

The  confinement  of  the  princess  in  the  Tower  had  purposely 
been  rendered  as  irksome  and  comfortless  as  possible.    It  was 


83 


THE  COURT  OF 


not  till  after  a  month's  close  imprisonment,  by  which  her  health 
had  suffered  severely,  that  she  obtained,  after  many  difficulties, 
permission  to  walk  in  the  royal  apartments  ;  and  this  under  the 
constant  inspection  of  the  constable  of  the  Tower  and  the  lord- 
chamberlain,  with  the  attendance  of  three  of  the  queen's  women  ; 
the  windows  also  being  shut,  and  she  not  permitted  to  look  out 
at  them.  Afterwards  she  had  liberty  to  walk  in  a  small  garden, 
the  gates  and  doors  being  carefully  closed  ;  and  the  prisoners 
whose  rooms  looked  into  it  being  at  such  times  closely  watched 
by  their  keepers,  to  prevent  the  interchange  of  any  word  or 
sign  with  the  princess.  Even  a  child  of  five  years  old  belonging 
to  some  inferior  officer  in  the  Tower,  who  was  wont  to  cheer 
her  by  his  cjaily  visits,  and  to  bring  her  flowers,  was  suspected 
of  being  employed  as  a  messenger  between  her  and  the  earl  of 
Devonshire  j  and  notwithstanding  the  innocent  simplicity  of  his 
answers  to  the  lord-chamberlain,  by  whom  he  was  strictly  ex 
amined,  wal  ordered  to  visit  her  no  more.  The  next  day  the 
child  peepei  in  through  a  hole  of  the  door  as  she  walked  in  the 
garden,  cryiig  out,  "  Mistress,  I  can  bring  you  no  more  flowers  !" 
for  which,  itseems,  his  father  was  severely  chidden  and  ordered 
to  keep  his  j>oy  out  of  the  way. 

From  the  beginning  of  her  imprisonment,  orders  had  been 
given  that  jhe  princess  should  have  mass  regularly  said  in  her 
apartment.  It  is  probable  that  Elizabeth  did  not  feel  any  great 
repugnance  to  this  rite :  however  this  may  be,  she  at  least  ex- 
pressed non^;  and  by  this  compliance  deprived  her  sister  of  all 
pretext  for  persecuting  her  on  a  religious  ground.  But  some  of 
her  householl  were  found  less  submissive  on  this  head,  and  she 
had  the  mortfication  of  seeing  Mrs.  Sands,  one  of  her  ladies, 
carried  forcibly  away  from  her  under  an  accusation  of  heresy 
and  her  plaoe  supplied  by  another. 

All  these  severities  failed  however  of  their  intended  effect : 
neither  sufferings  nor  menaces  could  bring  the  princess  to  ac- 
knowledge terself  guilty  of  offending  even  in  thought  against 
her  sovereim  and  sister;  and  as  the  dying  asseverations  of 
Wyat  had  Mly  acquitted  her  in  the  eyes  of  the  country,  it  be- 
came eviden;  that  her  detention  in  the  Tower  could  not  much 
longer  be  pe  sisted  in.  Yet  the  habitual  jealousy  of  Mary's  go- 
vernment, a^d  the  apparent  danger  of  furnishing  a  head  to  the 
protestants  rendered  desperate  by  her  cruelties,  forbade  the  en- 
tire liberation  of  the  princess  ;  and  it  was  resolved  to  adopt  as  a 
middle  course  the  expedient  sanctioned  by  many  examples  in 
that  age,  of  committing  her  to  the  care  of  certain  persons  who 
should  be  answerable  for  her  safe  keeping,  either  in  their  own 
houses,  or  at  some  one  of  the  royal  seats.  Lord  Williams  of 
Thame,  and  sir  Henry  Beddingfield,  captain  of  the  guard,  were 
accordingly  joined  in  commission  for  the  execution  of  this  deli- 
cate and  important  trust. 

The  unfortunate  prisoner  conceived  neither  hope  nor  comfort  . 
from  this  approaching  change  in  her  situation,  nor  probably  was 
it  designed  that  she  should  ;  for  intimidation  seems  still  to  have 


QIJHKN  ELIZABETH. 


89 


formed  an  essential  feature  in  the  policy  of  her  relentless  ene- 
mies. Sir  Henry  Beddingfield  entered  the  Tower  at  the  head 
of  a  hundred  of  his  men;  and  Elizabeth,  struck  with  the  unex 
pet  led  sight,  could  not  forbear  enquiring  with  dismay,  whether 
the  lady  Jane's  scaffold  were  removed  ?  On  being  informed 
that  it  was,  she  received  some  comfort,  but  this  was  not  of  long 
duration;  for  soon  a  frightful  rumour  reached  her,  that  she  was 
to  be  carried  away  by  this  captain  and  his  soldiers  no  one  knew 
whither.  She  sent  immediately  for  lord  Chandos,  constable  of 
the  Tower,  whose  humanity  and  courtesy  had  led  him  to  soften 
as  much  as  possible  the  hardships  of  her  situation,  though  at  the 
hazard  of  incurring  the  indignation  of  the  court;  and  closely 
questioning  him,  he  at  length  plainly  told  her  that  there  was  no 
help  for  it,  orders  were  given  and  she  must  be  consigned  to 
Beddingfield's  care  to  be  carried,  as  he  believed,  to  Woodstock. 
Anxious  and  alarmed,  she  now  asked  of  her  attendants  what 
kind  of  a  man  this  Beddingfield  was;  and  whether,  if  the  mur- 
dering of  her  were  secretly  committed  to  him,  his  conscience 
would  allow  him  to  see  it  executed  ?  None  about  her  could 
give  a  satisfactory  answer,  for  he  was  a  stranger  to  them  all  ; 
but  they  bade  her  trust  in  God  that  such  wickedness  should  not 
be  perpetrated  against  her. 

At  length,  on  May  19th,  after  a  close  imprisonment  of  three 
months,  she  was  brought  out  of  the  Tower  under  the  conduct  ot 
Beddingfield  and  his  troop  ;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day 
found  herself  at  Richmond  Palace,  where  her  sister  then  kept  her 
eourt.  She  was  still  treated  in  all  respects  like  a  captive :  the 
manners  of  Beddingfield  were  harsh  and  insolent ;  and  such  ter- 
ror did  she  conceive  from  the  appearances  around  her,  that  send- 
ing for  her  gentleman -usher,  she  desired  him  and  the  rest  of  her 
officers  to  pray  for  her  ;  "  For  this  night,"  said  she,  "  I  think  to 
die."  The  gentleman,  much  affected  by  her  distress,  encou- 
raged her  as  well  as  he  was  able  :  then  going  down  to  lord  Wil- 
liams, who  was  walking  with  Beddingfield,  he  called  him  aside 
and  implored  him  to  tell  him  sincerely,  whether  any  mischief 
were  designed  against  his  mistress  that  night  or  no  ;  "  that  he 
and  his  men  might  take  such  part  as  God  should  ?ilease  to  ap- 
point." "  For  certainly,"  added  this  faithful  servant,  "we  will 
rather  die  than  she  should  secretly  and  innocently  miscarry." 
"  Marry,  God  forbid,"  answered  Williams,  "  that  any  such  wicked 
purpose  should  be  wrought ;  and  rather  than  it  should  be  so,  I 
with  my  men  are  ready  to  die  at  her  feet  also." 

In  the  midst  of  her  gloomy  apprehensions,  the  princess  was  sur- 
prised by  an  offer  from  the  highest  quarter,  of  immediate  liber- 
ty on  condition  of  her  accepting  the  hand  of  the  duke  of  Savoy 
in  marriage. 

Oppressed,  persecuted,  and  a  prisoner,  sequestered  from  every 
friend  and  counsellor,  guarded  day  and  night  by  soldiers,  and  in 
hourly  dread  of  some  attempt  upon  her  life,  it  must  have  been 
confidently  expected  that  the  young  princess  would  embrace  as  a 
most  joyful  and  fortunate  deliverance  this  unhoped-for  proposal ; 


m 


THE  COURT  OF 


and  by  few  women,  certainly,  under  all  the  circumstances,  would 
such  expectations  have  been  frustrated.  But  the  firm  mind  of 
Elizabeth  was  not  thus  to  be  shaken,  nor  her  penetration  deceived. 
She  saw  that  it  was  banishment  which  was  held  out  to  her  in  the 
guise  of  marriage  ;  she  knew  that  it  was  her  reversion  of  an  inde 
pendent  English  crown  which  she  was  required  to  barter  for  the 
matrimonial  coronet  of  a  foreign  dukedom  ;  and  she  felt  the  pro  - 
posal as  what  in  truth  it  was ; — an  injury  in  disguise.  Fortunate- 
ly for  herself  and  her  country,  she  had  the  magnanimity  to  dis- 
dain the  purchase  of  present  ease  and  safety  at  a  price  so  dis- 
proportionate ;  and  returning  to  the  overture  a  modest  but  de- 
cided negative,  she  prepared  herself  to  endure  with  patience  and 
resolution  the  worst  that  her  enraged  and  baffled  enemies  might 
dare  against  her. 

No  sooner  was  her  refusal  of  the  offered  marriage  made  known, 
than  orders  were  given  for  her  immediate  removal  into  Oxford- 
shire. On  crossing  the  river  at  Richmond  on  this  melancholy 
journey,  she  descried  on  the  other  side  "  certain  of  her  poor  ser- 
vants," who  had  been  restrained  from  giving  their  attendance 
during  her  imprisonment,  and  were  anxiously  desirous  of  seeing 
her  again,  "  Go  to  them,"  said  she  to  one  of  her  men,  "  and  say 
these  words  from  me,  Tanquam  ovis"  (Like  a  sheep  to  the 
slaughter). 

As  she  travelled  on  horseback,  the  journey  occupied  four  days, 
and  the  slowness  of  her  progress  gave  opportunity  for  some  strik- 
ing displays  of  popular  feeling.  In  one  place,  numbers  of  peo- 
ple were  seen  standing  by  the  way-side  who  presented  to  her 
various  little  gifts ;  for  which  Beddingfield  did  not  scruple,  in 
his  anger,  to  call  them  traitors  and  rebels.  The  bells  were  every 
where  rung  as  she  passed  through  the  villages,  in  token  of  joy 
for  her  liberation ;  but  the  people  were  soon  admonished  that  she 
was  still  a  prisoner  and  in  disgrace,  by  the  orders  of  Bedding- 
field  to  set  the  ringers  in  the  stocks. 

On  the  third  evening  she  arrived  at  Ricot,  the  house  of  lord 
Williams,  where  its  owner,  gracefully  sinking  the  character  of 
a  watchful  superintendant  in  that  of  a  host  who  felt  himself  ho- 
noured by  her  visit,  introduced  her  to  a  large  circle  of  nobility 
and  gentry  whom  he  had  invited  to  bid  her  welcome.  The  se- 
vere or  suspicious  temper  of  Beddingfield  took  violent  umbrage 
at  the  sight  of  such  an  assemblage  ;  he  caused  his  soldiers  to  keep 
strict  watch  ;  insisted  that  none  of  the  guests  should  be  permit- 
ted to  pass  the  night  in  the  house  ;  and  asked  lord  Williams  if 
he  were  aware  of  the  consequences  of  thus  entertaining  the 
queen's  prisoner?  But  he  made  answer,  that  he  well  knew 
what  he  did,  and  that  "  her  grace  might  and  should  in  his  house 
be  merry."  Intelligence  however  had  no  sooner  reached  the 
court  of  the  reception  afforded  to  the  princess  at  Ricot,  than  di- 
rections arrived  for  her  immediate  removal  to  Woodstock.  Here, 
under  the  harsher  inspection  of  Beddingfield,  she  found  herself 
once  more  a  prisoner.  No  visitant  was  permitted  to  approach: 
the  doors  were  closed  upon  her  as  in  the  Tower  ;  and  a  military 
guard  again  kept  watch  around  the  walls  both  day  and  night. 


QliRKN  ELIZABETH. 


91 


YW  possess  many  particulars  relative  to  the  captivity  of  Eliza- 
beth a  I  Wood  slock,  hi  some  of  them  we  may  recognise  that 
spirit  of  exaggeration  which  the  anxious  sympathy  excited  by  her 
sufferings  at  the  time,  and  the  unbounded  adulation  paid  to  her 
afterwards,  were  certain  to  produce ;  others  bear  all  the  charac- 
ters of  truth  and  nature. 

It  is  certain  that  her  present  residence,  though  less  painful 
and  especially  less  opprobrious  than  imprisonment  in  the  Tower, 
was  yet  a  state  of  rigorous  constraint  and  jealous  inspection,  in 
which  she  was  haunted  with  cares  and  fears  which  robbed  her 
youth  of  its  bloom  and  vivacity,  and  her  constitution  of  its  vigour. 
On  June  8th  such  was  the  state  of  her  health  that  two  physicians 
were  sent  from  the  court  who  remained  for  several  days  in  at- 
tendance on  her.  On  their  return,  they  performed  for  their  pa- 
tient the  friendly  office  of  making  a  favourable  report  of  her  be- 
haviour and  of  the  dutiful  humility  of  her  sentiments  towards 
her  majesty,  which  was  received,  we  are  told,  with  more  com- 
placency by  Mary  than  by  her  bishops.  Soon  after,  she  was  ad- 
vised by  some  friend  to  make  her  peace  with  the  queen  by  sub- 
missions and  acknowledgments,  which,  with  her  usual  constancy, 
she  absolutely  refused,  though  apparently  the  only  terms  on 
which  she  could  hope  for  liberty. 

Under  such  circumstances  we  may  give  easy  belief  to  the 
touching  anecdote,  that  "  she,  hearing  upon  a  time  out  of  her 
garden  at  Woodstock,  a  milkmaid  singing  pleasantly,  wished  her- 
self a  milkmaid  too  ;  saying  that  her  case  was  better,  and  her  life 
merrier  than  hers." 

The  instances  related  of  the  severity  and  insolence  of  sir 
Henry  Beddingfield  are  to  be  received  with  more  distrust.  We 
are  told,  that  observing  a  chair  of  state  prepared  for  the  princess 
in  an  upper  chamber  at  lord  Williams's  house  he  seized  upon  it  for 
himself  and  insolently  ordered  his  boots  to  be  pulled  off  in  that 
apartment.  Yet  we  learn  from  the  same  authority  that  after- 
wards at  Woodstock,  when  she  seems  to  have  been  in  his  sole 
custody,  Elizabeth  having  called  him  her  jailor,  on  observing  him 
lock  the  gate  of  the  garden  while  she  was  walking  in  it,  he  fell 
on  his  knees  and  entreated  her  grace  not  to  give  him  that  name, 
for  he  was  appointed  to  be  one  of  her  officers.  It  has  also  been 
asserted,  that  on  her  accession  to  the  throne  she  dismissed  him 
from  her  presence  with  the  speech,  that  she  prayed  God  to  for- 
give him,  as  she  did,  and  that  when  she  had  a  prisoner  whom  she 
would  have  straitly  kept  and  hardly  used,  she  would  send  for 
him.  But  if  she  ever  used  to  him  words  like  these,  it  must  have 
been  in  jest ;  for  it  is  known  from  the  best  authority,  that  Bed- 
dingfield was  frequently  at  the  court  of  Elizabeth,  and  that  she 
once  visited  him  on  a  progress.  If  there  is  any  truth  in  the  sto- 
ries told  of  persons  of  suspicious  appearance  lurking  about  the 
walls  of  the  palace,  who  sought  to  gain  admittance  for  the  pur- 
pose of  taking  away  her  life,  the  exact  vigilance  of  her  keeper, 
by  which  all  access  was  barred,  might  more  deserve  her  thanks 
than  her  reproaches. 


i 


THE  COURT  OF 


During  the  period  that  the  princess  was  thus  industriously 
secluded  from  conversation  with  any  but  the  few  attendants  who 
had  been  allowed  to  remain  about  her  person,  her  correspon- 
dence was  not  less  watchfully  restricted.  We  are  told,  that 
when,  after  urgent  application  to  the  council,  she  had  at  length 
been  permitted  to  write  to  the  queen,  Beddingfield  looked  over 
her  as  she  wrote,  took  the  paper  into  his  own  keeping  when  she 
paused,  and  brought  it  back  to  her  when  she  chose  to  resume 
her  task. 

Yet  could  not  his  utmost  precaution  entirely  cut  off  her  com- 
munications with  the  large  and  zealous  party  who  rested  upon 
her  all  their  hopes  of  better  times  for  themselves  or  for  the  coun- 
try. Through  the  medium  of  a  visitor  to  one  of  her  ladies,  she 
received  the  satisfactory  assurance  that  none  of  the  prisoners 
for  Wyat's  business  had  been  brought  to  utter  any  thing  by 
which  she  could  be  endangered.  Perhaps  it  was  with  immediate 
reference  to  this  intelligence  that  she  wrote  with  a  diamond  on 
her  window  the  homely  but  expressive  distich, 

"  Much  suspected  by  me 
Nothing  proved  can  be, 
Quoth  Elizabeth  prisoner." 

But  these  secret  intelligencers  were  not  always  fortunate 
enough  to  escape  detection,  of  which  the  consequences  were 
rendered  very  grievous  through  the  arbitrary  severity  of  Mary's 
government,  and  the  peculiar  malice  exercised  by  Gardiner 
against  the  adherents  of  the  princess. 

Sir  John  Harrington,  son  to  the  gentleman  of  the  same  name 
formerly  mentioned  as  a  follower  of  admiral  Seymour,  thus  in 
his  Brief  View  of  the  Church,  sums  up  the  character  of  this 
*  celebrated  bishop  of  Winchester,  with  reference  to  this  part  of 
his  conduct. 

"Lastly,  the  plots  he  laid  to  entrap  the  lady  Elizabeth,  and 
his  terrible  hard  usage  of  all  her  followers,  I  cannot  yet  scarce 
think  of  with  charity,  nor  write  of  with  patience.  My  father, 
for  only  carrying  a  letter  to  the  lady  Elizabeth,  and  professing 
to  wish  her  well,  he  kept  in  the  Tower  twelve  months,  and  made 
him  spend  a  thousand  pounds  ere  he  could  be  free  of  that  trou- 
ble. My  mother,  that  then  served  the  lady  Elizabeth,  he  caused, 
to  be  sequestered  from  her  as  an  heretic,  insomuch  that  her  own 
father  durst  not  take  her  into  his  house,  but  she  was  glad  to  so- 
journ with  one  Mr.  TopclifF;  so  as  I  may  say  in  some  sort,  this 
bishop  persecuted  me  before  I  was  born." 

In  the  twelfth  month  of  his  imprisonment,  this  unfortunate 
Harr  ington,  having  previously  sent  to  the  bishop  many  letters  and 
petitions  for  liberty  without  effect,  had  the  courage  to  address  to 
him  a  "  Sonnet,"  which  his  son  has  cited  as  "  no  ill  verse  for 
those  unrefined  times ;"  a  modest  commendation  of  lines  so  spi- 
rited, which  the  taste  of  the  more  modern  reader,  however  fasti- 
dious, need  not  hesitate  to  confirm. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


TO  BISHOP  GARDINER. 

;B©pi'.  ■ ;  .  V-  ;;*$|:  *  Li '  •  ^.^$|i$^Jw 

"  At  least  withdraw  your  cruelty, 
Or  force  the  time  to  work  your  will ; 
It  is  too  much  extremity 
To  keep  me  pent  in  prison  still, 
Free  from  all  fault,  void  of  all  cause, 
Without  all  right,  against  all  laws. 
How  can  you  do  more  cruel  spite 
Than  pl  otter  wrong  and  promise  right  ? 
Nor  can  accuse,  nor  will  acquight. 

"  "  2. 
Eleven  months  past  and  longer  space 
I  have  abode  your  dev'lish  drifts, 
While  you  have  sought  both  man  and  place, 
And  set  your  snares,  with  all  your  shifts, 
The  faultless  foot  to  wrap  in  wile 
With  any  guilt,  by  any  guile  : 

And  now  you  see  that  will  not  be, 
How  can  you  thus  for  shame  agree 
To  keep  him  bound  you  should  set  free  ? 

3. 

Your  chance  was  once  as  mine  is  now, 
To  keep  this  hold  against  your  will, 
And  then  you  sware  you  well  know  how, 
Though  now  your  swerve,  I  know  how  ill. 
But  thus  this  world  his  course  doth  pass, 
The  priests  forgets  a  clerk  he  was, 
And  you  that  have  cried  justice  still, 
And  now  have  justice  at  your  will, 
Wr rest  justice  wrong  against  all  skill. 

4. 

But  why  do  I  thus  coldly  plain 

As  if  it  were  my  cause  alone  ? 

When  cause  doth  each  man  so  constrain 

As  England  through  hath  cause  to  moan, 

To  see  your  bloody  search  of  such 

As  all  the  earth  can  no  way  touch. 
And  better  were  that  all  your  kind 
Like  hounds  in  hell  with  shame  were  shrined, 
Than  you  add  might  unto  your  mind. 

5. 

But  as  the  stone  that  strikes  the  wall 
Sometimes  bounds  back  on  th'  hurler's  head, 
So  your  foul  fetch,  to  your  foul  fall 
May  turn,  and  'noy  the  breast  that  bred. 


94 


THE  COURT  OF 


And  then,  such  measure  as  you  gave 
Of  right  and  justice  look  to  have, 

If  good  or  ill,  if  short  or  long ; 

If  false  or  true,  if  right  or  wrong  ; 

And  thus,  till  then,  I  end  my  song." 

Such  were  the  trials  and  sufferings  which  exercised  the  for- 
titude of  Elizabeth  and  her  faithful  followers  during  her  deplo- 
rable  abode  at  Woodstock.  Mary,  meanwhile,  was  rapt  in  fond 
anticipations  of  the  felicity  of  her  married  life  with  a  prince  for 
whom,  on  the  sight  of  his  picture,  she  is  said  to  have  conceived 
the  most  violent  passion.  The  more  strongly  her  people  express- 
ed their  aversion  and  dread  of  the  Spanish  match,  trie  more  ve- 
hemently did  she  show  herself  bent  on  its  conclusion;  and  hav- 
ing succeeded  in  suppressing  by  force  the  formidable  rebellion 
to  which  the  first  report  of  such  an  union  had  given  birth,  she 
judged  it  unnecessary  to  employ  any  of  those  arts  of  popularity 
to  which  her  disposition  was  naturally  adverse,  for  conciliating 
to  herself  or  her  destined  spouse  the  good  will  of  her  subjects. 
After  many  delays  which  severely  tried  her  temper,  the  arrival 
of  the  prince  of  Spain  at  Southampton  was  announced  to  the 
expecting  queen,  who  went  as  far  as  Winchester  to  meet  him, 
in  which  city  Gardiner  blessed  their  nuptials  on  July  the  27th. 
1554. 

The  royal  pair  passed  in  state  through  London  a  few  days 
after,  and  the  city  exhibited  by  command  the  outward  tokens  of 
rejoicing  customary  in  that  age.  Bonfires  were  kindled  in  the 
open  places,  tables  spread  in  the  streets  at  which  all  passers-by 
might  freely  regale  themselves  with  liquor:  every  parish  sent, 
forth  its  procession  singing  Te  Deum  ;  the  fine  cross  in  Cheap- 
side  was  beautified  and  newly  gilt,  and  pageants  were  set  up  in 
the  principal  streets.  But  there  was  little  gladness  of  heart 
among  the  people  ;  and  one  of  these  festal  devices  gave  occasion 
to  a  manifestation  of  the  dispositions  of  the  court  respecting  re- 
ligion, which  filled  the  citizens  with  grief  and  horror.  A  large 
picture  had  been  hung  over  the  conduit  in  Gracechurch  street  re- 
presenting h©  nine  Worthies,  and  among  them  king  Henry  VIII. 
made  his  appearance,  according  to  former  draughts  of  him,  hold- 
ing in  his  hand  a  book  on  which  was  inscribed  "  Verbum  Dei." 
This  accompaniment  gave  so  much  offence,  that  Gardiner  sent 
for  the  painter  ;  and  after  chiding  him  severely,  ordered  that  a 
pair  of  gloves  should  be  substituted  for  the  bible. 

Religion  had  already  been  restored  to  the  state  in  which  it  re- 
mained at  the  death  of  Henry ;  but  this  was  by  no  means  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  the  conscience  of  the  queen,  which  required  the 
entire  restoration  in  all  its  parts,  of  the  ancient  church-establish- 
ment. It  had  been,  in  fact,  one  of  the  first  acts  of  her  reign  to 
forward  to  Rome  a  respectful  embassy  which  conveyed  to  the 
sovereign  pontiff  her  recognition  of  the  supremacy  of  the  holy 
see,  and  a  petition  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  invest  with  the 
character  of  his  legate  for  England  Cardinal  Pole, — that  earnest 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


95 


champion  of  her  own  legitimacy  and  the  church's  unity,  who  had 
been  for  so  many  years  the  object  of  her  father's  bitterest  ani 
mosi  ty. 

Mary's  precipitate  zeal  had  received  somccheck  in  this  in- 
stance from  the  worldly  policy  of  the  emperor  Charles  V.,  who, 
either  entertaining  some  jealousy  of  the  influence  of  Pole  with 
the  queen,  or  at  least  judging  it  fit  to  secure  the  great  point  of 
his  son's  marriage  before  the  patience  of  the  people  of  England 
should  be  proved  by  the  arrival  of  a  papal  legate,  had  impeded 
the  journey  of  the  cardinal  by  a  detention  of  several  weeks  in 
his  court  at  Brussels.  But  no  sooner  was  Philip  in  secure  pos- 
session of  his  bride,  than  Pole  was  suffered  to  proceed  on  his 
mission.  The  parliament,  which  met  early  in  November  1554, 
reversed  the  attainder  which  had  laid  him  under  sentence  of 
death,  and  on  the  24th  of  the  same  month  he  was  received  at 
court  with  great  solemnity,  and  with  every  demonstration  of 
affection  on  the  part  of  his  royal  cousin. 

From  this  period  the  cause  of  popery  proceeded  triumphantly : 
a  reign  of  terror  commenced  ;  and  the  government  gained  fresh 
strength  and  courage  by  every  exertion  of  the  tyrannic  power 
which  it  had  assumed.  After  the  married  clergy  had  been  ren- 
duced  to  give  up  either  their  wives  or  their  benefices,  and  the 
protestant  bishops  deprived,  and  many  of  them  imprisoned, 
without  exciting  any  popular  commotion  in  their  behalf,  the  court 
became  emboldened  to  propose  in  parliament  a  solemn  recon- 
ciliation of  the  country  to  the  papal  see.  A  house  of  commons 
more  obsequious  than  the  former  acceded  to  the  motion,  and 
on  November  29th  the  legate  formally  absolved  the  nation  from 
all  ecclesiastical  censures,  and  readmitted  it  within  the  pale 
of  the  church. 

The  ancient  statutes  against  heretics  were  next  revived  ;  and 
the  violent  counsels  of  Gardiner  proving  more  acceptable  to  the 
queen  than  the  milder  ones  of  Pole,  a  furious  persecution  was 
immediately  set  on  foot.  Bishops  Hooper  and  Rogers  were  the  first 
victims  ;  Saunders  and  Taylor,  two  eminent  divines,  succeeded  ; 
upon  all  of  whom  Gardiner  pronounced  sentence  in  person ; 
after  which  he  resigned  to  Bonner,  his  more  brutal  but  not  more 
merciless  colleague,  the  inglorious  task  of  dragging  forth  to 
punishment  the  heretics  of  inferior  note  and  humbler  station. 
In  the  midst  however  of  his  barbarous  proceedings,  of  which 
London  was  the  principal  theatre,  the  bench  of  bishops  thought 
proper  in  solemn  assembly  to  declare  that  they  had  no  part  in 
such  severities ;  and  Philip,  who  shrank  from  the  odium  of  the 
very  deeds  most  grateful  to  his  savage  soul,  caused  a  Spanish 
friar  his  confessor  to  preach  before  him  in  praise  of  toleration, 
and  to  show  that  Christians  could  bring  no  warrant  from  Scrip- 
ture for  shedding  the  blood  of  their  brethren  on  account  of  reli 
gious  differences.  But  justly  apprehensive  that  so  extraordinary 
a  declaration  of  opinion  from  such  a  person  might  not  of  itself 
suffice  to  establish  in  the  minds  of  the  English  that  character  of 
lenity  and  moderation  which  he  found  it  his  interest  to  acquire, 
he  determined  to  add  some  few  deeds  to  worcU. 


96 


THE  COURT  OF 


About  the  close  of  the  year  1554,  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton, 
Pobert  Dudley,  and  all  the  other  prisoners  on  account  of  the 
usurpation  of  Jane  Grey  or  the  insurrection  of  Wyat,  were  libe- 
rated, at  the  intercession,  as  was  publicly  declared,  of  king  Phi- 
lip ;  and  he  soon  after  employed  his  good  offices  in  the  cause 
of  two  personages  still  more  interesting  to  the  feelings  of  the 
nation, — the  princess  Elizabeth  and  the  earl  of  Devonshire. 

It  is  worth  while  to  estimate  the  value  of  these  boasted  acts 
of  generosity.  With  regard  to  Courtney  it  may  be  -sufficient  to 
observe,  that  a  close  investigation  of  facts  had  proved  him  to 
have  been  grateful  for  the  liberation  extended  to  him  by  Mary 
on  her  accession,  and  averse  from  all  schemes  for  disturbing  her 
government,  and  that  the  queen's  marriage  had  served  to  banish 
from  her  mind  some  former  grounds  of  displeasure  against  him. 
Nothing  but  an  union  with  Elizabeth  could  at  this  time  have 
rendered  him  formidable  ;  and  it  was  easy  to  guard  effectually 
against  the  accomplishment  of  any  such  design,  without  the 
odious  measure  of  detaining  the  earl  in  perpetual  imprisonment 
at  Fotheringay  Castle,  whither  he  had  been  already  removed  from 
the  Tower  After  all,  it  was  but  the  shadow  of  liberty  which  he 
was  permitted  to  enjoy ;  and  he  found  himself  so  beset  with 
spies  and  suspicion,  that  a  very  few  months  after  his  release  he 
requested  and  obtained  the  royal  license  to  travel.  Proceeding 
into  Italy,  he  shortly  after  ended  at  Padua  his  blameless  and 
unfortunate  career.  Popular  fame  attributed  his  early  death  to 
poison  administered  by  the  Imperialists,  but  probably,  as  in  a 
multitude  of  similar  cases,  on  no  sufficient  authority. 

As  to  Elizabeth,  certain  writers  have  ascribed  Philip's  pro- 
tection of  her  at  this  juncture  to  the  following  deduction  of  con- 
sequences ; — that  if  she  were  taken  off,  and  if  the  queen  should 
die  childless,  England  would  become  the  inheritance  of  the 
queen  of  Scots,  now  betrothed  to  the  dauphin,  and  thus  go  to 
augment  the  power  of  France,  already  the  most  formidable  rival 
of  the  Spanish  monarchy.  Admitting  however  that  such  a  cal- 
culation of  remote  contingencies  might  not  be  too  refined  to  act 
upon  the  politic  brain  of  Philip,  it  is  yet  plainly  absurd  to  sup- 
pose that  the  life  or  death  of  Elizabeth  was  at  this  time  at  all  the 
matter  in  question.  Secret  assassination  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  so  much  as  dreamed  of,  and  Mary  and  her  council,  even 
supposing  them  to  have  been  sufficiently  wicked,  were  certainly 
not  audacious  enough  to  think  of  bringing  to  the  scaffold,  with- 
out form  of  trial,  without  even  a  plausible  accusation,  the  imme- 
diate heiress  of  the  crown,  and  the  hope  and  favourite  of  the  na- 
tion. The  only  question  must  now  have  been,  what  degree  of 
liberty  it  would  be  advisable  to  allow  her ;  and  a  due  considera- 
tion of  the  facts,  that  she  had  already  been  removed  from  the 
Tower,  and  that  after  her  second  release,  (that,  namely  from 
Woodstock,)  she  was  never,  to  the  end  of  the  reign,  permitted 
to  reside  in  a  house  of  her  own  without  an  inspector  of  her  con- 
duct, will  reduce  within  very  moderate  limits  the  vaunted  claims 
of  Philip  to  her  lasting  gratitude. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


97 


The  project  of  marrying  the  princess  to  the  duke  of  Savoy 
had  doubtless  originated  with  the  Spanish  court ;  and  it  was 
still  persisted  in  by  Philip,  from  the  double  motive  of  providing 
for  the  head  of  the  protestant  party  in  England  a  kind  of  honour- 
able exile,  and  of  attaching  to  himself  by  the  gift  of  her  hand,  a 
young  prince  whom  he  favoured  and  destined  to  high  employ- 
ments in  his  service.  But  as  severity  had  already  been  tried  in 
vain  to  bring  Elizabeth  to  compliance  on  this  point,  it  seems  now 
to  have  been  determined  to  make  experiment  of  opposite  mea- 
sures. The  duke  of  Savoy,  who  had  attended  Philip  to  England, 
was  still  in  the  country  ;  and  as  he  was  in  the  prime  of  life  and 
a  man  of  merit  and  talents,  it  appeared  not  unreasonable  to  hope 
that  a  personal  interview  might  incline  the  princess  to  lend  a 
more  propitious  ear  to  his  suit.  To  this  consideration  then  we 
are  probably  to  ascribe  the  invitation  which  admitted  Elizabeth 
to  share  in  the  festivals  of  a  Christmas  celebrated  by  Philip  and 
Mary  at  Hampton  Court  with  great  magnificence,  and  which 
must  have  been  that  of  the  year  1554,  because  this  is  well  known 
to  have  been  the  only  one  passed  by  the  Spanish  prince  in  Eng- 
land 

A  contemporary  chronicle  still  preserved  amongst  the  MSS. 
of  the  British  Museum,  furnishes  several  particulars  of  her  en- 
tertainment. On  Christmas  eve,  the  great  hall  of  the  palace 
being  illuminated  with  a  thousand  lamps  artificially  disposed, 
the  king  and  queen  supped  in  it ;  the  princess  being  seated  at 
the  same  table,  next  to  the  cloth  of  estate.  After  supper  she  was 
served  with  a  perfumed  napkin  and  *a  plate  of  "  comfects"  by 
lord  Paget,  but  retired  to  her  ladies  before  the  revels,  masking, 
and  disgui sings  began.  On  St.  Stephen's  day  she  heard  mat- 
tins  in  the  queen's  closet  adjoining  to  the  chapel,  where  she  was 
attired  in  a  robe  of  white  satin,  strung  all  over  with  large  pearls ; 
and  on  December  the  29th  she  sat  with  their  majesties  and  the 
nobility  at  a  grand  spectacle  of  justing,  when  two  hundred  spears 
were  broken  by  combatants  of  whom  half  were  accoutered  in  the 
Almaine  and  half  in  the  Spanish  fashion. 

How  soon  the  princess  again  exchanged  the  splendours  of  a 
court  for  the  melancholy  monotony  of  Woodstock  does  not  ap- 
pear from  this  document,  nor  from  any  other  with  which  I  am 
acquainted ;  but  several  circumstances  make  it  clear,  that  we 
ought  to  place  about  this  period  an  incident  recorded  by  Holin- 
shed,  and  vaguely  stated  to  have  occurred  soon  after  "  the  stir 
of  Wyat"  and  the  troubles  of  Elizabeth  for  that  cause.  A  ser- 
vant of  the  princess's  had  summoned  a  person  before  the  magis- 
trates for  having  mentioned  his  lady  by  the  contumelious  appel- 
lation of  a  Jill,  and  having  made  use  of  other  disparaging  language 
respecting  her.  Was  it  to  be  endured,  asked  the  accuser,  that  a 
low  fellow  like  this  should  speak  of  her  grace  thus  insolently, 
when  the  greatest  personages  in  the  land  treated  her  with  every 
ma  k  of  respect  ?  He  added,  "  I  saw  yesterday  in  the  court  that 
my  lord  cardinal  Pole,  meeting  her  in  the  chamber  of  presence, 
kneeled  down  on  his  knee  and  kissed  her  hand  ;  and  I  saw  also. 

N 


THE  COURT  OF 


that  king  Philip  meeting  her  made  her  such  obeisance  that  his 
knee  touched  the  ground." 

If  this  story  be  correct,  which  is  not  indeed  vouched  by  the 
chronicler,  but  which  seems  to  bear  internal  evidence  of  genuine- 
ness, it  will  go  far  to  prove  that  the  situation  of  Elizabeth  dur- 
ing her  abode  at  Woodstock  was  by  no  means  that  opprobrious 
captivity  which  it  has  usually  been  represented.  She  visited  the 
court,  it  appears,  occasionally,  perhaps  frequently  ;  and  was 
greeted  in  public  by  the  king  himself  with  every  demonstration 
of  civilrty  and  respect ; — demonstrations  which,  whether  accom- 
panied or  not  by  the  corresponding  sentiments,  would  surely 
suffice  to  protect  her  from  all  harsh  or  insolent  treatment  on  the 
part  of  those  to  whom  the  immediate  superintendance  of  her 
actions  was  committed. 

Her  enemies  however  were  still  numerous  and  powerful ;  and 
it  is  certain  that  she  found  no  advocate  in  the  heart  of  her  sister. 
That  able,  but  thoroughly  profligate  politician  lord  Paget,  not- 
withstanding his  serving  the  princess  with  "  comfects,"  is  re- 
ported to  have  said,  that  the  queen  would  never  have  peace  ia 
the  country  till  her  head  were  smitten  off ;  and  Gardiner  never 
ceased  to  look  upon  her  with  an  evil  eye.  Lord  Williams,  it 
seems,  had  made  suit  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  take  her 
from  Woodstock  to  his  own  home,  giving  large  bail  for  her  safe 
keeping ;  and  as  he  was  a  known  catholic  and  much  in  favour, 
it  was  supposed  at  first  that  his  petition  would  be  heard  :  but  by 
some  secret  influence  the  mind  of  Mary  was  indisposed  to  the 
granting  of  this  indulgence  and  the  proposal  was  dropped.  But 
the  Spanish  counsellors  who  attended  their  prince  never  ceased, 
we  are  told,  to  persuade  him  "  that  the  like  honour  he  should 
never  obtain  as  he  should  in  delivering  the  lady  Elizabeth"  out 
of  her  confinement:  and  Philip,  who  was  now  labouring  ear- 
nestly at  the  design,  which  he  had  entertained  ever  since  his 
marriage,  of  procuring  himself  to  be  crowned  king  of  England, 
was  himself  aware  of  the  necessity  of  previously  softening  the 
prejudices  of  Ihe  nation  by  some  act  of  conspicuous  popularity : 
he  renewed  therefore  his  solicitations  on  this  point  with  a  zeal 
which  rendered  them  effectual.  The  moment  indeed  was  favour- 
able ; — Mary,  who  now  believed  herself  far  advanced  in  preg- 
nancy, was  too  happy  in  her  hopes  to  remain  inflexible  to 
the  entreaties  of  her  husband ;  and  the  privy-council,  in  their 
sanguine  expectations  of  an  heir,  viewed  the  princess  as  less 
than  formerly  an  object  of  political  jealousy.  And  thus,  by  a 
contrariety  of  cause  and  effect  by  no  means  rare  in  the  compli- 
cated system  of  human  affairs,  Elizabeth  became  indebted  for  pre- 
sent tranquillity  and  comparative  freedom  to  the  concurrence  of 
projects  and  expectations  the  most  fatal  to  all  her  hopes  of  fu- 
ture greatness. 

About  the  end  of  April,  1555,  the  princess  took  at  length  her 
final  departure  from  Woodstock,  and  proceeded, — but  still  un- 
der the  escort  of  Beddingfield  and  his  men, — to  Hampton  Court. 
At  Colnbrook  she  was  met  by  her  own  gentlemen  .and  yeomen  to 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


the  number  of  sixty,  "  much,"  says  John  Fox,  "  to  all  their  com- 
{oris,  which  had  not  seen  her  of  long  season  before,  notwith- 
standing they  were  immediately  commanded  in  the  queen's  name 
to  depart  the  town,  and  she  not  suffered  once  to  speak  to  them." 

The  next  day  she  reached  Hampton  Court,  and  was  ushered 
into  the  prince's  lodgings;  but  the  doors  were  closed  upon  her 
and  guarded  as  at  Woodstock,  and  it  was  a  fortnight,  according 
to  the  martyrologist,  before  any  one  had  recourse  to  her. 

At  the  end  of  this  time  she  was  solaced  by  a  visit  from  lord 
William  Howard,  son  of  the  old  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  first-cousin 
to  her  mother,  who  "  very  honourably  used  her,"  and  through 
whom  she  requested  to  speak  to  some  of  the  privy-council.  Several 
ol  its  members  waited  upon  her  in  consequence,  and  Gardiner 
among  the  rest,  who  "  humbled  himself  before  her  with  all  humi- 
lity," but  nevertheless  seized  the  opportuity  to  urge  her  once 
more  to  make  submission  to  the  queen,  as  a  necessary  prelimi- 
nary to  the  obtaining  of  her  favour.  Elizabeth,  with  that  firm- 
ness and  wisdom  which  had  never,  in  her  severest  trials,  forsa- 
ken her,  declared  that  rather  than  do  so,  she  would  lie  in  prison 
all  the  days  of  her  life  ;  adding,  that  she  craved  no  mercy  at  her 
majesty's  hand,  but  rather  the  law,  if  ever  she  did  offend  her  in 
thought,  word,  or  deed.  "  And  besides  this,"  said  she,  "  in 
yielding  I  should  speak  against  myself,  and  confess  myself  an 
offender,  by  occasion  of  which  the  king  and  queen  might  ever 
after  conceive  of  me  an  ill  opinion  ;  and  it  were  better  for  me 
to  lie  in  prison  for  the  truth,  than  to  be  abroad  and  suspected  of 
my  prince."  The  councillors  now  departed,  promising  to  de- 
liver her  message  to  the  queen..  The  next  day  Gardiner  waited 
upon  her  again  and  told  her  that  her  majesty  "  marvelled  she 
would  so  stoutly  carry  herself,  denying  to  have  offended  ;  so 
that  it  should  seem  the  queen  had  wrongfully  imprisoned  her 
grace :"  and  that  she  must  tell  another  tale  ere  she  had  her  li- 
berty. The  lady  Elizabeth  declared  she  would  stand  to  her  for- 
mer resolution,  for  she  would  never  belie  herself.  "  Then,"  said 
the  bishop,  "  your  grace  hath  the  'vantage  of  me  and  the  other 
councillors  for  your  long  and  wrong  imprisonment."  She  took 
God  to  witness  that  she  sought  no  'vantage  against  them  for  their 
so  dealing  with  her.  Gardiner  and  the  rest  then  kneeled,  desiring 
that  all  might  be  forgotten,  and  so  departed;  she  bei  lg  locked 
up  again." 

About  a  week  after  the  failure  of  this  last  effort  of  her  crafty 
enemy  to  extort  some  concession  which  might  afterwards  be  em- 
ployed to  criminate  her  or  justify  himself,  she  received  a  sudden 
summons  from  the  queen,  and  was  conducted  by  torch-light  tp 
the  royal  apartments. 

Mary  received  her  in  her  chamber,  to  which  she  had  now  con- 
fined herself  in  expectation  of  that  joyful  event  which  was  des- 
tined never  to  arrive.  The  princess  on  entering  kneeled  down, 
and  protested  herself  a  true  and  loyal  subject,  adding,  that  she 
did  not  doubt  that  her  majesty  would  one  day  find  her  to  be  such, 
whatever  different  report  had  gone  of  her.    The  queen  express- 


109 


THE  COURT  OF 


ed  at  first  sorcffc  dissatisfaction  at  her  still  persisting  so  strongly 
in  her  assertions  of  innocence,  thinking  that  she  might  take  occa- 
sion to  inveigh  against  her  imprisonment  as  the  act  of  injustice 
and  oppression  which  in  truth  it  was ;  but  on  her  sister's  reply- 
ing  in  a  submissive  manner,  that  it  was  her  business  to  bear 
what  the  queen  was  pleased  to  inflict,  and  that  she  should  make 
no  complaints,  she  appears  to  have  been  appeased.  Fox's  ac 
count  however  is,  that  they  parted  with  few  comfortable  words 
of  the  queen  in  English,  but  what  she  said  in  Spanish  was  not 
known :  that  it  was  thought  that  king  Philip  was  there  behind 
a  cloth,  and  not  seen,  and  that  he  showed  himself  "  a  very- 
friend"  in  this  business.  From  other  accounts  we  learn  that 
Elizabeth  scrupled  not  the  attempt  to  ingratiate  herself  with 
Mary  at  this  interview  by  requesting  that  her  majesty  would  be 
pleased  to  send  her  some  catholic  tractates  for  confirmation  of 
her  faith  and  to  counteract  the  doctrines  which  she  had  imbibed 
from  the  works  of  the  reformers.  Mary  showed  herself  some- 
what distrustful  of  her  professions  on  this  point,  but  dismissed 
her  at  length  with  tokens  of  kindness.  She  put  upon  her  finger, 
as  a  pledge  of  amity,  a  ring  worth  seven  hundred  crowns  ; — men- 
tioned that  sir  Thomas  Pope  was  again  appointed  to  reside  with 
her,  and  observing  that  he  was  already  well  known  to  her  sister 
commended  him  as  a  person  whose  prudence,  humanity,  and  other 
estimable  qualities,  were  calculated  to  render  her  new  situation 
perfectly  agreeable. 

To  what  place  the  princess  was  first  conveyed  from  this  au- 
dience does  not  appear,  but  it  must  have  been  to  one  of  the  royal 
seats  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London,  to  several  of  which  she 
was  successively  removed  during  some  time ;  after  which  she 
was  permitted  to  establish  herself  permanently  at  the  palace  of 
Hatfield  in  Hertfordshire. 

From  this  auspicious  interview  the  termination  of  her  pri- 
soner-state may  be  dated.  Henceforth  she  was  released  from 
the  formidable  parade  of  guards  and  keepers  ;  no  doors  were 
closed,  no  locks  were  turned  upon  her ;  and  though  her  place 
of  residence  was  still  prescribed,  and  could  not,  apparently,  be 
changed  by  her  at  pleasure,  she  was  treated  in  all  respects  as 
at  home  and  mistress  of  her  actions. 

Sir  Thomas  Pope  was  a  man  of  worth  and  a  gentleman  ;  and 
such  were  the  tenderness  and  discretion  with  which  he  exercised 
the  delicate  trust  reposed  in  him,  that  the  princess  must  soon 
have  learned  to  regard  him  in  the  light  of  a  real  friend.  It  is 
not  a  little  remarkable  at  the  same  time,  that  the  person  selected 
by  Mary  to  receive  so  distinguished  a  proof  of  her  confidence, 
should  have  made  his  first  appearance  in  public  life  as  the  active 
assistant  of  Cromwel  in  the  great  work  of  the  destruction  of  monas- 
teries ;  and  that  from  grants  of  abbey  lands,  which  the  queen 
esteemed  it  sacrilege  to  touch,  he  had  derived  the  whole  of  that 
wealth  of  which  he  was  now  employing  a  considerable  portion 
in  the  foundation  of  Trinity  college  Oxford. 

But  sir  Thomas  Pope,  even  in  the  execution  of  the  arbitrary 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


401 


and  rapacious  mandates  of  Henry,  had  been  advantageously  dis- 
tinguished amongst  his  colleagues  by  the  qualities  of  mildness 
and  integrity;  and  the  circumstance  of  his  having  obtained  a 
seat  at  the  council-board  of  Mary  from  the  very  commencemenl 
of  her  reign,  proves  him  to  have  acquired  some  peculiar  merits 
in  her  eyes.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  a  furious  zeal,  whether 
real  or  pretended,  for  the  Romish  faith,  was  not  amongst  his 
courtly  arts  ;  for  though  strictly  enjoined  to  watch  over  the  due 
performance  and  attendance  01  mass  in  the  family  of  the  prin- 
cess, he  connived  at  her  retaining  about  her  person  many  ser- 
vants who  were  earnest  protestants. 

This  circumstance  unfortunately  reached  the  vigilant  ears  of 
Gardiner ;  and  it  was  to  a  last  expiring  effort  of  his  indefatiga- 
ble malice  that  Elizabeth  owed  the  mortification  of  seeing  two 
gentlemen  from  the  queen  arrive  at  Lamer,  a  house  in  Hertford- 
shire which  she  then  occupied,  who  carried  away  her  favourite 
Mrs.  Ashley  and  three  of  her  maids  of  honour,  and  lodged  them 
in  the  Tower. 

Isabella  Markham,  afterwards  the  wife  of  that  sir  John  Har- 
rington whose  sufferings  in  the  princess's  service  have  been 
already  adverted  to,  was  doubtless  one  of  these  unfortunate 
ladies.  Elizabeth,  highly  to  her  honour,  never  dismissed  from 
remembrance  the  claims  of  such  as  had  been  faithful  to  her  in 
her  adversity  ;  she  distinguished  this  worthy  pair  by  many  tokens 
of  her  royal  favour :  stood  godmother  to  their  son,  and  admitted 
him  from  his  tenderest  youth  to  a  degree  of  affectionate  intimacy 
little  inferior  to  that  in  which  she  indulged  the  best  beloved  of 
her  own  relations. 

In  the  beginning  of  September  1555,  king  Philip,  mortified  by 
the  refusal  of  his  coronation,  in  which  the  parliament  with  steady 
patriotism  persisted ;  disappointed  in  his  hopes  of  an  heir ;  and 
disgusted  by  the  fondness  and  the  jealousy  of  a  spouse  devoid 
of  every  attraction  personal  and  mental,  quitted  England  for 
the  continent,  and  deigned  not  to  revisit  it  during  a  year  and  a 
half.  Elizabeth  might  regret  his  absence,  as  depriving  her  of 
the  personal  attentions  of  a  powerful  protector ;  but  late  events 
had  so  firmly  established  her  as  next  heir  to  the  crown,  that  she 
was  now  perfectly  secure  against  the  recurrence  of  any  attempt 
to  degrade  her  from  her  proper  station  ;  and  her  reconciliation 
with  the  queen,  whether  cordial  or  not,  obtained  for  her  occa- 
sional admission  to  the  courtly  circle. 

A  few  days  after  the  king's  departure  we  find  it  mentioned 
that  "  the  queen's  grace,  the  lady  Elizabeth,  and  all  the  court, 
did  fast  from  flesh  to  qualify  them  to  take  the  Pope's  jubilee  and 
pardon  granted  to  all  out  of  his  abundant  clemency  ;"*  a  trait 
which  makes  it  probable  that  Mary  was  now  in  the  habit  of  ex- 
acting her  sisters  attendance  at  court,  for  the  purpose  of  wit- 
nessing with  her  own  eyes  her  punctual  observance  of  the  rites 


*  Strype'a  Ecclesiastical  Memorials. 


102 


THE  COURT  0¥ 


of  that  church  to  which  she  still  believed  her  a  reluctant  con- 
formist. 

A  few  weeks  afterwards,  the  death  of  her  capital  enemy,  Gar- 
diner, removed  the  worst  of  the  ill  instruments  who  had  inter- 
posed to  aggravate  the  suspicions  of  the  queen,  and  there  is  rea- 
son to  believe  that  the  princess  found  in  various  ways  the  benefi- 
cial effects  of  this  event. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

1555  to  1558. 

Elizabeth  applies  herself  to  classical  literature, —Its  neglected 
state. — Progress  of  English  poetry. — Account  of  Sackville  and 

his  works. — Plan  of  his  Mirror  for  Magistrates. — Extracts.  

Notice  of  the  contributors  to  this  collection. — Its  popularity  and 
literary  merits. — Entertainment  given  to  Elizabeth  by  sir  Tho- 
mas Pope. — Dudley  Ashton's  attempt. — Elizabeth  acknowledged 
innocent  of  his  designs. — Her  letter  to  the  queen. — She  returns 
to  London — quits  it  in  some  disgrace  after  again  refusing  the 
duke  of  Savoy. —  Violence  of  Philip  respecting  this  match. — 
Mary  protects  her  sister. — Festivities  at  Hatfield,  Enfield,  and 
Richmond. — King  of  Sweden's  addresses  to  Elizabeth  rejected. 
— Letter  of  sir  T.  Pope  respecting  her  dislike  of  marriage. — 
Proceedings  of  the  ecclesiastical  commission. — Cruel  treatment 
of  sir  John  Cheke. — General  decay  of  national  prosperity. — 
Loss  of  Calais. — Death  of  Mary. 

Notwithstanding  the  late  fortunate  change  in  her  situation, 
Elizabeth  must  have  entertained  an  anxious  sense  of  its  remain- 
ing difficulties,  if  not  dangers  ;  and  the  prudent  circumspection 
of  her  character  again,  as  in  the  latter  years  of  her  brother,  dic- 
tated the  expediency  of  shrouding  herself  in  all  the  obscurity  com- 
patible with  her  rank  and  expectations.  To  literature,  the  never 
failing  resource  of  its  votaries,  she  turned  again  for  solace  and 
occupation ;  and  claiming  the  assistance  which  Ascham  was 
proud  and  happy  to  afford  her,  she  resumed  the  diligent  perusal 
of  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics. 

The  concerns  of  the  college  of  which  sir  Thomas  Pope  was 
the  founder  likewise  engaged  a  portion  of  her  thoughts ;  and 
this  gentleman,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  mentions  that  the  lady 
Elizabeth,  whom  he  served,  and  who  was  "  not  only  gracious  but 
right  learned,"  often  asked  him  of  the  course  which  he  had  de- 
vised for  his  scholars. 

Classical  literature  was  now  daily  declining  from  the  eminence* 
on  which  the  two  preceding  sovereigns  had  laboured  to  place  it. 
The  destruction  of  monastic  institutions,  and  the  dispersion  of 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 


103 


libraries,  with  the  impoverishment  of  public  schools  and  colleges 
through  the  rapacity  of  Edward's  courtiers,  had  inflicted  far 
deeper  injury  on  the  cause  of  learning  than  the  studious  ex- 
ample of  the  young  monarch  and  his  chosen  companions  was 
able  to  compensate.  The  persecuting  spirit  of  Mary,  by  driving 
into  exile  or  suspending  from  the  exercise  of  their  functions  the 
able  and  enlightened  professors  of  the  protestant  doctrine,  had 
robbed  the  church  and  the  universities  of  their  brightest  lumina- 
ries ;  and  it  was  not  under  the  auspices  of  her  fierce  and  igno- 
rant bigotry  that  the  cultivators  of  the  elegant  and  humanizing 
arts  would  seek  encouragement  or  protection.  Gardiner  indeed, 
where  particular  prejudices  did  not  interfere,  was  inclined  to 
favour  the  learned  ;  and  Ascham  owed  to  him  the  place  of  La- 
tin secretary.  Cardinal  Pole  also,  himself  a  scholar,  was  desir- 
ous to  support,  as  much  as  present  circumstances  would  permit, 
his  ancient  character  of  a  patron  of  scholars,  and  he  earnestly 
pleaded  with  sir  Thomas  Pope  to  provide  for  the  teaching  of 
Greek  as  well  as  Latin  in  his  college  ;  but  sir  Thomas  persisted  in 
his  opinion  that  a  Latin  professorship  was  sufficient,  considering 
the  general  decay  of  erudition  in  the  country,  which  had  caused 
an  almost  total  cessation  of  the  study  of  the  Greek  language. 

It  was  in  the  department  of  English  poetry  alone  that  any 
perceptible  advance  was  effected  or  prepared  during  this  deplor- 
able sera  ;  and  it  was  to  the  vigorous  genius  of  one  man,  whose 
vivid  personifications  of  abstract  beings  were  then  quite  unrival- 
led, and  have  since  been  rarely  excelled  in  our  language,  and 
whose  clear,  copious,  and  forcible  style  of  poetic  narrative  in- 
terested all  readers,  and  inspired  a  whole  school  of  writers  who 
worked  upon  his  model,  that  this  advance  is  chiefly  to  be  attri- 
buted. This  benefactor  to  our  literature  was  Thomas  Sackville, 
son  of  sir  Richard  Sackville,  an  eminent  member  of  queen  Ma- 
ry's council,  and  second  cousin  to  the  lady  Elizabeth  by  his  pa- 
ternal grandmother,  who  was  a  Boleyn.  The  time  of  his  birth 
is  doubtful,  some  placing  it  in  1536,  others  as  early  as  1527.  He 
studied  first  at  Oxford  and  afterwards  at  Cambridge,  distinguish- 
ing himself  at  both  universities  by  the  vivacity  of  his  parts  and 
the  excellence  of  his  compositions  both  in  verse  and  prose.  Ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  that  age,  which  required  that  an  Eng- 
lish gentleman  should  acquaint  himself  intimately  with  the 
laws  of  his  country  before  he  took  his  seat  amongst  her  legisla- 
tors, he  next  entered  himself  of  the  Inner  Temple,  and  about  the 
last  year  of  Mary's  reign  he  served  in  parliament.  But  at  this 
early  period  of  life  poetry  had  more  charms  for  Sackville  than 
law  or  politics  ;  and  following  the  bent  of  his  genius,  he  first 
produced  "  Gorbodoc,"  confessedly  the  earliest  specimen  of  re- 
gular tragedy  in  our  language  ;  but  which  will  be  noticed  with 
more  propriety  when  we  reach  the  period  of  its  representation 
before  queen  Elizabeth.  He  then,  about  the  year  1557  as  is 
supposed,  laid  the  plan  of  an  extensive  work  to  be  called  "A 
Mirror  for  Magistrates ;'*  of  which  the  design  is  thus  unfolded 
in  a  highly  poetical  "  Induction," 


104 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  poet  wandering  forth  on  a  winter's  evening,  and  taking 
occasion  from  the  various  objects  which  "told  the  cruel  season,'* 
to  muse  on  the  melancholy  changes  of  human  affairs,  and  espe- 
cially on  the  reverses  incident  to  greatness,  suddenly  encoun- 
ters a  "  piteous  wight,"  all  clad  in  black,  who  was  weeping,  sigh- 
ing, and  wringing  her  hands,  in  such  lamentable  guise,  that 

"  never  man  did  see 

A  wight  but  half  so  woe-begone  as  she." 

Struck  with  grief  md  horror  at  the  view,  he  earnestly  requires 
her  to  "  unwrap"  her  woes,  and  inform  him  who  and  whence  she 
is,  since  her  anguish,  if  not  relieved,  must  soon  put  an  end  to  her 
life.    She  answers, 

"  Sorrow  am  I,  in  endless  torments  pained 
Among  the  furies  in  th'  infernal  lake  :" 

from  these  dismal  regions  she  is  come,  she  says,  to  bemoan  the 
luckless  lot  of  those 

"  Whom  Fortune  in  this  maze  of  misery, 
Of  wretched  chance  most  woful  Mirrors  chose ;" 

and  she  ends  by  inviting  him  to  accompany  her  in  her  return-: 

"  Come,  come,  quoth  she,  and  see  what  I  shall  show. 
Come  hear  the  plaining  and  the  bitter  bale 
Of  worthy  men  by  Fortune's  overthrow  : 
Come  thou  and  see  them  ruing  all  in  row. 
They  were  but  shades  that  erst  in  mind  thou  rolled, 
Come,  come  with  me,  thine  eyes  shall  then  behold." 

He  accepts  the  invitation,  having  first  done  homage  to  Sorrow- 
as  to  a  goddess,  since  she  had  been  able  to  read  his  thought. 
The  scenery  and  personages  are  now  chiefly  copied  from  the 
sixth  book  of  the  iEneid  ;  but  with  the  addition  of  many  highly 
picturesque  and  original  touches. 

The  companions  enter,  .hand  in  hand,  a  gloomy  wood,  through 
which  Sorrow  only  could  have  found  the  way. 

"  But  lo,  while  thus  amid  the  desert  dark 
We  passed  on  with  steps  and  pace  unmeet, 
A  rumbling  roar,  confused  with  howl  and  bark 
Of  dogs,  shook  all  the  ground  beneath  our  feet, 
And  struck  the  din  within  our  ears  so  deep, 
As  half  distraught  unto  the  ground  I  fell ; 
besought  return,  and  not  to  visit  hell." 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


105 


His  guide  however  encourages  him,  and  they  proceed  by  the 
"  lothly  lake"  Avernus, 

"  In  dreadful  fear  amid  the  dreadful  place." 

M  And  first  within  the  porch  and  jaws  of  hell 
Sat  deep  Remorse  of  Conscience,  all  besprent 
With  tears  ;  and  to  herself  oft  would  she  tell 
Her  wretchedness,  and  cursing  never  stent 
To  sob  and  sigh :  but  ever  thus  lament 
W  ith  thoughtful  care,  as  she  that  all  in  vain 
Should  wear  .and  waste  continually  in  pain. 

Her  eyes,  unsteadfast  rolling  here  and  there, 

Whirled  on  each  place  as  place  that  vengeance  brought, 

So  was  her  mind  continually  in  fear, 

Tossed  and  tormented  with  tedious  thought 

Of  those  detested  crimes  that  she  had  wrought : 

With  dreadful  cheer  and  looks  thrown  to  the  sky, 

Longing  for  death,  and  yet  she  could  not  die. 

Next  saw  we  Dread,  all  trembling  how  he  shook 
With  foot  uncertain  proffered  here  and  there, 
Benumbed  of  speech,  and  with  a  ghastly  look 
Searched  every  place,  all  pale  and  dead  with  fear, 
His  cap  borne  up  with  staring  of  his  hair."  &c. 

All  the  other  allegorical  personages  named,  and  only  named,  by 
Virgil,  as  well  as  a  few  additional  ones,  are  pourtrayed  in  succes- 
sion, and  with  the  same  strength  and  fullness  of  delineation  ;  but 
with  the  exception  of  War,  who  appears  in  the  attributes  of 
Mars,  they  are  represented  simply  as  examples  of  Old  age,  Ma- 
lady, &c.  not  as  the  agents  by  whom  these  evils  are  inflicted 
upon  others.  Cerberus  and  Charon  occur  in  their  appropriate 
offices,  but  the  monstrous  forms  Gorgon,  Chimsera,  &c,  are  ju- 
diciously suppressed  ;  and  the  poet  is  speedily  conducted  to  the 
fcanks  of  that  "  main  broad  flood" 

"  Which  parts  the  gladsome  fields  from  place  of  woe." 

"  With  Sorrow  for  my  guide,  as  there  I  stood, 
A  troop  of  men  the  most  in  arms  bedight, 
In  tumult  clustered  'bout  both  sides  the  flood : 
'Mongst  whom,  who  were  ordained  t'  eternal  night, 
Or  whom  to  blissful  peace  and  sweet  delight, 
I  wot  not  well,  it  seemed  that  they  were  all 
Such  as  by  death's  untimely  stroke  did  fall." 

Sorrow  acquaints  him  that  these  are  all  illustrious  examples  of 


0 


106 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  reverses  which  he  was  lately  deploring,  who  will  themselves 
relate  to  him  their  misfortunes  ;  and  that  he  must  afterwards 

"  Recount  the  same  to  Kesar,  king  and  peer." 

The  first  whom  he  sees  advancing  towards  him  from  the  throng 
of  ghosts  is  Henry  duke  of  Buckingham,  put  to  death  under 
Richard  III. :  and  his  "Legend,"  or  story,  is  unfortunately  the 
only  one  which  its  author  ever  found  leisure  to  complete ;  the 
favour  of  his  illustrious  kinswoman  on  her  accession  causing 
him  to  sink  the  poet  in  the  courtier,  the  ambassador,  and  finally 
the  minister  of  state.  But  he  had  already  done  enough  to  earn 
himself  a  lasting  name  amongst  the  improvers  of  poetry  in  Eng- 
land. In  tragedy  he  gave  the  first  regular  model;  in  personifi- 
cation he  advanced  far  beyond  all  his  predecessors,  and  funished 
a  prototype  to  that  master  of  allegory,  Spenser.  A  greater  than 
Spenser  has  also  been  indebted  to  him :  as  will  be  evident,  I 
think,  to  all  who  compare  the  description  of  the  figures  on  the 
shield  of  war  in  his  Induction,  and  especially  those  of  them  which 
relate  to  the  siege  of  Troy,  with  the  exquisitely  rich  and  vivid 
description  of  a  picture  on  that  subject  in  Shakespeare's  early 
poem  on  Tarquin  and  Lucretia. 

The  legend  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham  is  composed  in  a  style 
rich,  free  and  forcible  ;  the  examples  brought  from  ancient  his- 
tory, of  the  suspicion  and  inward  wretchedness  to  which  tyrants 
have  ever  been  a  prey,  and  afterwards,  of  the  instability  of  popu- 
lar favour,  might  in  this  age  be  accounted  tedious  and  pedantic ; 
they  are  however  pertinent,  well  recited,  and  doubtless  possessed 
the  charm  of  novelty  with  respect  to  the  majority  of  contem- 
porary readers.  The  curses  which  the  unhappy  duke  pours  forth 
against  the  dependent  who  had  betrayed  him,  may  almost  com- 
pare, in  the  energy  and  inventiveness  of  malice,  with  those  of 
Shakespeare's  queen  Margaret;  but  they  lose  their  effect  by 
being  thrown  into  the  form  of  monologue  and  ascribed  to  a  de- 
parted spirit,  whose  agonies  of  grief  and  rage  in  reciting  his  own 
death  have  something  in  them  bordering  on  the  burlesque. 

The  mind  of  Sackville  was  deeply  fraught,  as  we  have  seen, 
with  classic  stores  ;  and  at  a  time  when  England  possessed  as 
yet  no  complete  translation  of  Virgil,  he  might  justly  regard  it 
as  a  considerable  service  to  the  cause  of  national  taste  to  trans- 
plant into  our  vernacular  poetry  some  scattered  flowers  from 
his  rich  garden  of  poetic  sweets.  Thus  he  has  embellished  his 
legend  with  an  imitation  or  rather  paraphrase  of  the  celebrated 
description  of  night  in  the  fourth  book  of  the  iEneid.  The  lines 
well  merit  transcription. 

"Midnight  was  come,  when  ev'ry  vital  thing 
With  sweet  sound  sleep  their  weary  limbs  did  rest ; 
The  beasts  were  still,  the  little  birds  that  sing 
Now  sweetly  slept  besides  their  mother's  breast. 
The  old  and  all  were  shrouded  in  their  nest : 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


The  waters  calm,  the  Gruel  seas  did  cease ; 

The  woods,  the  fields,  and  all  things  held  their  peace. 

The  golden  stars  were  whirled  amid  their  race, 
And  on  the  earth  did  laugh  with  twinkling  light, 
When  each  thing  nestled  in  his  resting  place 
Forgat  day's  pain  with  pleasure  of  the  night: 
The  hare  had  not  the  greedy  hounds  in  sight; 
The  fearfubdeer  had  not  the  dogs  in  doubt, 
The  partridge  dreamt,  not  of  the  falcon's  foot. 

The  ugly  bear  now  minded  not  the  stake, 
Nor  how  the  cruel  mastives  do  him  tear; 
The  stag  lay  still  unroused  from  the  brake  ; 
The  foamy  boar  feared  not  the  hunter's  spear: 
All  things  were  still  in  desert,  bush  and  breer. 
With  quiet  heart  now  from  their  travails  ceast 
Soundly  they  slept  in  midst  of  all  their  rest." 

The  allusion  to  bear-bating  in  the  concluding  stanza  may  of- 
fend the  delicacy  of  a  modern  reader ;  but  let  it  be  remembered 
that  in  the  days  of  Mary,  and  even  of  Elizabeth,  this  amusement 
was  accounted  "  sport  for  ladies." 

The  "  Mirror  for  Magistrates"  was  not  lost  to  the  world  by 
the  desertion  of  Sackville  from  the  service  of  the  muses  ;  for  a 
similar  or  rather  perhaps  the  same  design  was  entertained,  and 
soon  after  carried  into  execution,  by  other  and  able  though  cer- 
tainly inferior  hands. 

During  the  reign  of  Mary, — but  whether  before  or  after  the 
composition  of  Sackville's  Induction  does  not  appear, — a  certain 
printer,  having  communicated  to  several  "worshipful  and  ho- 
nourable persons"  his  intention  of  republishing  Lydgate's  trans- 
lation in  verse  of  Boccacio's  "  Fall  of  Princes,"  was  by  them 
advised  to  procure  a  continuation  of  the  work,  chiefly  in  English 
examples ;  and  he  applied  in  consequence  to  Baldwyne,  an  ec- 
clesiastic and  graduate  of  Oxford.  Baldwyne  declined  to  em- 
bark alone  in  so  vast  a  design,  and  one,  as  he  thought,  so  little 
likely  to  prove  profitable  ;  but  seven  other  contemporary  poets, 
of  whom  George  Ferrers  has  already  been  mentioned  as  one, 
having  promised  their  assistance,  he  consented  to  assume  the 
editorship  of  the  work.  The  general  frame  agreed  upon  by  these 
associates  was  that  employed  in  the  original  work  of  Boccacio, 
who  feigned,  that  a  party  of  friends  being  assembled,  it  was  de- 
termined that  each  of  them  should  contribute  to  the  pleasure  of 
the  company  by  personating  some  illustrious  and  unfortunate 
character,  and  relating  his  adventures  in  the  first  person.  A 
contrivance  so  tame  and  meagre  compared  with  the  descent  to 
the  regions  of  the  dead  sketched  with  so  much  spirit  by  Sack- 
ville, that  it  must  have  preceded,  in  all  probability,  their  know  - 
ledge at  least  of  his  performance.  The  first  part  of  the  work, 
almost  entirely  by  Baldwyne,  was  written,  and  partly  printed.. 


10$ 


THE  COURT  OF 


in  Mary's  time,  but  its  publication  was  prevented  by  the  inter- 
ference of  the  lord -chancellor, — a  trait  of  the  mean  and  cowardly 
jealousy  of  the  administration,  which  speaks  volumes.  In  the 
first  year  of  Elizabeth,  lord  Stafford,  an  enlightened  patron  of 
letters,  procured  a  licence  for  its  appearance.  A  second  part 
soon  followed,  in  which  Sackville's  Induction  and  Legend  were 
inserted.  The  success  of  this  collection  was  prodigious  ;  edition 
after  edition  was  given  to  the  public  under  the  inspection  of  dif- 
ferent poetical  revisers,  by  each  of  whom  copious  additions  were 
made  to  the  original  work.  Its  favour  and  reputation  continued 
during  all  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  and  far  into  that  of  James  ;  for 
Mr.  Warton  tells  us  that  in  Chapman's  "  May-day,"  printed  in 
1611,  "a  gentleman  of  the  most  elegant  taste  for  reading  and 
highly  accomplished  in  the  current  books  of  the  times,  is  called 
'one  that  has  read  Marcus  Aurelius,  Gesta  Romanorum,  and  the 
Mirror  of  Magistrates.'  "* 

The  greater  part  of  the  contributors  to  this  work  were  law- 
yers :  an  order  of  men  who,  in  most  ages  and  nations,  have  ac- 
counted it  a  part  of  professional  duty  to  stand  in  opposition  to 
popular  seditions  on  one  hand,  and  to  the  violent  and  illegal  ex- 
ertion of  arbitrary  power  on  the  other.  Accordingly,  many  of 
the  legends  are  made  to  exemplify  the  evils  of  both  these  ex- 
cesses ;  and  though,  in  more  places  than  one,  the  unlawfulness, 
on  any  provocation,  of  lifting  a  hand  against  "  the  Lord's  anoint- 
ed," is  in  strong  terms  asserted,  the  deposition  of  tyrants  is  often 
recorded  with  applause ;  and  no  mercy  is  shown  to  the  corrupt 
judge  or  minister  who  wrests  law  and  justice  in  compliance  with 
the  wicked  will  of  his  prince. 

The  newly  published  chronicles  of  the  wars  of  York  and  Lan- 
caster by  Hall,  a  writer  who  made  some  approach  to  the  charac- 
ter of  a  genuine  historian,  furnished  facts  to  the  first  composers 
of  the  Mirror ;  the  later  ones  might  draw  also  from  Holinshed 
and  Stow.  There  is  some  probability  that  the  idea  of  forming 
plays  on  English  history  was  suggested  to  Shakespeare  by  the 
earlier  of  these  legends  ;  and  it  is  certain  that  his  plays,  in  their 
turn,  furnished  some  of  their  brightest  ornaments  of  sentiment 
and  diction  to  the  legends  added  by  later  editors. 

To  a  modern  reader,  the  greater  part  of  these  once  admired 
pieces  will  appear  trite,  prosaic,  and  tedious  ;  but  an  uncultiva- 
ted age — like  the  children  and  the  common  people  of  all  ages — 
is  most  attracted  and  impressed  by  that  mode  of  narration  which 
leaves  the  least  to  be  supplied  by  the  imagination  of  the  hearer 
or  reader ;  and  when  this  collection  of  history  in  verse  is  com- 
pared, not  with  the  finished  labours  of  a  Hume  or  a  Robertson, 
but  with  the  prolix  and  vulgar  narratives  of  the  chroniclers,  the 
admiration  and  delight  with  which  it  was  received  will  no  longer 
surprise. 

One  circumstance  more  respecting  a  work  so  important  by  the 
*  quantity  of  historical  knowledge  which  it  diffused  among  the 


History  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  iii. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


109 


mass  of  readers,  and  the  influence  which  it  exerted  over  the  pub- 
lic mind  during  half  a  century,  deserves  to  be  here  adverted  to. 
Baldwyne  and  his  fellow-labourers  began  their  series  from  the 
Norman  conquest,  and  the  same  starting  point  had  been  judi- 
ciously chosen  by  Sackville  ;  but  the  fabulous  history  of  Geffrey 
of  Monmouth  still  found  such  powerful  advocates  in  national 
vanity,  ignorance  and  credulity,  that  succeeding  editors  found  it 
convenient  to  embellish  their  work  with  moral  examples  drawn 
from  his  fictitious  series  of  British  kings  before  the  invasion  of 
the  Romans.  Accordingly  they  have  brought  forward  a  long 
line  of  worthies,  beginning  with  king  Albanact,  son  of  Brute 
the  Trojan,  and  ending  with  Cadwallader  the  last  king  of  the 
Britons,  scarcely  one  of  whom,  excepting  the  renowned  prince 
Arthur,  is  known  even  by  name  to  the  present  race  of  students 
in  English  history  ;  though  amongst  poetical  readers,  the  immor- 
tal verse  of  Spenser  preserves  some  recollection  that  such  cha- 
racters once  were  fabled.  In  return  for  this  superfluity,  our 
Saxon  line  of  kings  is  passed  over  with  very  little  notice,  only 
three  legends,  and  those  of  very  obscure  personages,  being  inter- 
posed between  Cadwallader  and  king  Harold.  The  descent  of 
the  royal  race  of  Britain  from  the  Trojans  was  at  this  period 
more  than  an  article  of  poetical  faith;  it  was  maintained,  or  rather 
taken  for  granted,  by  the  gravest  and  most  learned  writers.  One 
Kelston,  who  dedicated  a  versified  chronicle  of  the  Brutes  to  Ed- 
ward VI.,  went  further  still,  and  traced  up  the  pedigree  of  his 
majesty  through  two -and -thirty  generations,  to  Osiris  king  of 
Egypt.  Troynovant,  the  name  said  to  have  been  given  to  Lon- 
don by  Brute,  its  founder,  was  frequently  employed  in  verse.  A 
song,  addressed  to  Elizabeth,  entitles  her  the  "  beauteous  queen 
of  second  Troy  and  in  describing  the  pageants  which  celebra- 
ted her  entrance  into  the  provincial  capitals  which  she  visited  in 
her  progresses,  it  will  frequently  be  necessary  to  introduce  to 
the  reader,  personages  of  the  ancient  race  of  this  fabled  conque- 
ror of  our  island,  who  claimed  for  his  direct  ancestor, — but  whe- 
ther in  the  third  or  fourth  degree  authors  differ, — no  less  a  hero 
than  the  pious  iEneas  himself. 

But  to  return  to  the  personal  circumstances  of  Elizabeth. 

The  public  and  splendid  celebration  of  the  festivals  of  the 
church  was  the  least  reprehensible  of  the  measures  employed  by 
Mary  for  restoring  the  ascendancy  of  her  religion  over  the  minds 
of  her  subjects.  She  had  been  profuse  in  her  donations  of  sacred 
vestments  and  ornaments  to  the  churches  and  the  monasteries, 
of  whici^  she  had  restored  several ;  and  these  gaudy  trappings  of 
a  ceremonial  worship  were  exhibited,  rather  indeed  to  the  scan- 
dal than  the  edification  of  a  dejected  people,  in  frequent  proces- 
sions conducted  with  the  utmost  solemnity  and  magnificence. 
Court  entertainments  always  accompanied  these  devotional  ce- 
remonies, and  Elizabeth  seems,  by  assisting  at  the  latter,  to  have 
purchased  admission  to  the  former.  The  Christmas  festivities  in 
which  she  shared  have  already  been  described  in  the  words  of  a 
contemporary  chronicler ;  and  from  the  same  source  we  derive 


110 


the  Court  of 


the  following  account  of  the  "antique  pageantries"  with  which 
another  season  of  rejoicing  was  celebrated  for  her  recreation,  by 
the  munificence  of  the  indulgent  superintendent  of  her  conduct 
and  aftairs.  "In  Shrovetide,  1556,  sir  Thomas  Pope  made  for 
the  lady  Elizabeth,  all  at  his  own  costs,  a  great  and  rich  mask- 
ing in  the  great  hall  at  Hatfield,  where  the  pageants  were  mar- 
vellously furnished.  There  were  there  twelve  minstrels  anticly 
disguised ;  with  forty  six  or  more  gentlemen  and  ladies,  many 
of  them  knights  or  nobles,  and  ladies  of  honour,  apparelled  in 
crimson  satin,  embroidered  upon  with  wreaths  of  gold,  and  gar- 
nished with  borders  of  hanging  pearl.  And  the  devise  of  a  castle 
of  cloth  of  gold,  set  with  pomegranates  about  the  battlements, 
with  shields  of  knights  hanging  therefrom  ;  and  six  knights  in 
rich  harness  tourneyed.  At  night  the  cupboard  in  the  hall  was 
of  twelve  stages  mainly  furnished  with  garnish  of  gold  and  silver 
vessul,  and  a  banquet  of  seventy  dishes,  and  after  a  voidee  of 
spices  and  suttleties  with  thirty-six  spice-plates;  all  at  the 
charges  of  sir  Thomas  Pope.  And  the  next  day  the  play  of  Ho- 
lophernes.  But  the  queen  percase  misliked  these  folleries  as  by 
her  letters  to  sir  Thomas  it  did  appear;  and  so  their  disguisings 
ceased."* 

A  circumstance  soon  afterwards  occured  calculated  to  recal 
past  dangers  to  the  mind  of  the  princess,  and  perhaps  to  disturb 
ier  with  apprehensions  of  their  recurrence. 

Dudley  Ashton,  formerly  a  partisan  of  Wyat,  had  escaped 
into  France,  after  the  defeat  and  capture  of  his  leader,  whence 
he  was  still  plotting  the  overthrow  of  Mary's  government.  By 
the  connivance  or  assistance  of  that  court,  now  on  the  brink  of 
war  with  England,  he  was  at  length  enabled  to  send  over  one 
Cleberry,  a  condemned  person,  whom  he  instructed  to  counter- 
feit the  earl  of  Devonshire,  and  endeavour  to  raise  the  country 
in  his  cause.  Letters  and  proclamations  were  at  the  same  time  dis- 
persed by  Ashton,  in  which  the  name  of  Elizabeth  was  employed 
without  scruple.  The  party  had  even  the  slanderous  audacity 
to  pretend,  that  between  Courtney  and  the  heiress  of  the  crown 
the  closest  of  all  intimacies,  if  not  an  actual  marriage,  subsisted  ; 
and  the  matter  went  so  far  that  at  Ipswich,  one  of  the  strong 
holds  of  protestantism,  Cleberry  proclaimed  the  earl  of  Devon- 
shire and  the  princess,  king  and  queen.  But  the  times  were  past 
when  any  advantage  could  be  taken  of  this  circumstance  against 
Elizabeth,  whose  perfect  innocence  was  well  known  to  the  go- 
vernment ;  and  the  council  immediately  wrote  in  handsome  terms 
to  sir  Thomas  Pope,  directing  him  to  acquaint  her,  in  whatever 
manner  he  should  judge  best,  with  the  abominable  falsehoods 
circulated  respecting  her.  A  few  days  after  the  queen  herself 
wrote  also  to  her  sister  in  terms  fitted  to  assure  her  of  perfect 
safety.  The  princess  replied,  says  Strype,  "  in  a  well  penned 
letter,"  "  utterly  detesting  and  disclaiming  all  concern  in  the  en- 
terprise, and  declaiming  against  the  actors  in  it."    Of  the  epistle 

*  See  Nichols's  "  Progresses,"  vol.  i.  p.  19. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


thus  commended,  a  single  paragraph  will  probably  be  esteemed 

a  sufficient  specimen  "And  among  earthly  things  I  chiefly 

wish  this  one  ;  that  there  were  as  good  surgeons  for  making  ana- 
tomies of  hearts,  that  might  show  my  thoughts  to  your  majesty, 
as  there  are  expert  physicians  of  the  bodies,  able  to  express  the 
inward  griefi  of  their  maladies  to  the  patient.  For  then  I  doubt 
not,  but  know  well,  that  whatsoever  others  should  suggest  by 
malice,  yet  your  majesty  should  be  sure  by  knowledge;  so  that 
the  more  such  misty  clouds  oiluscate  the  clear  light  of  my  truth, 
the  more  my  tried  thoughts  should  glister  to  the  dimming  of 
their  hidden  malice."  &c.  It  must  be  confessed  that  this  eru- 
dite princess  had  not  perfectly  succeeded  in  transplanting  into 
her  own  language  the  epistolary  graces  of  her  favourite  Cicero; 
— but  to  how  many  much  superior  classical  scholars  might  a  si- 
milar remark  be  applied  ! 

The  frustration  of  Mary's  hope  of  becoming  a  mother,  her  sub- 
sequent ill  state  of  health,  and  the  resolute  refusal  of  the  parlia- 
ment to  permit  the  coronation  of  her  husband,  who  had  quitted 
England  in  disgust  to  attend  his  affairs  on  the  continent,  con- 
ferred, in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  the  catholic  party,  a  daily  aug- 
menting importance  on  Elizabeth.  When  therefore  in  Novem- 
ber 1536,  she  had  come  in  state  to  Somerset  Place,  her  town- 
residence,  to  take  up  her  abode  for  the  winter,  a  kind  of  court 
was  immediately  formed  around  her;  and  she  might  hope  to  be 
richly  indemnified  for  any  late  anxieties  or  privations,  by  the 
brilliant  festivities,  the  respectful  observances,  and  the  still  more 
welcome  flatteries,  of  which  she  found  herself  the  distinguished 
object : — But  disappointment  awaited  her. 

She  had  been  invited  to  court  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  a 
second  and  more  solemn  offer  of  the  hand  of  the  duke  of  Savoy, 
whose  suit  was  inforced  by  the  king  her  brother-in-law  with  the 
whole  weight  of  his  influence  or  authority.  This  alliance  had 
been  the  subject  of  earnest  correspondence  between  Philip  and 
the  English  council ;  the  Imperial  ambassadors  were  waiting  in 
England  for  her  answer ;  and  the  disappointment  of  the  high 
raised  hopes  of  the  royal  party,  by  her  reiteration  of  a  decided 
negative,  was  followed  by  her  quitting  London  in  a  kind  of  dis- 
grace early  in  the  month  ot  December. 

But  Pfrrlip  would  not  suffer  the  business  to  end  here.  Indig- 
nant at  the  resistance  opposed  by  the  princess  to  his  measures, 
he  seems  to  have  urged  the  queen  to  interfere  in  a  manner  au- 
thoritative enough  to  compel  obedience  ;  but  by  a  remarkable  ex- 
change of  characters,  Mary  now  appeared  as  the  protectress  of 
her  sister  from  the  violence  of  Philip. 

In  a  letter  still  preserved,  she  tells  him,  that  unless  the  con- 
sent of  parliament  were  first  obtained,  she  fears  that  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  marriage  would  fail  to  procure  for  him  the  ad- 
vantages which  he  expected  ;  but  that,  however  this  might  be, 
her  conscience  would  not  allow  her  to  press  the  matter  further. 
That  the  friar  Alphonso,  Philip's  confessor,  whom  he  had  sent 
to  argue  the  point  with  her,  had  entirely  failed  of  convincing 


THE  COURT  OF 


her  ;  that  in  fact  she  could  not  comprehend  the  drift  of  his  ar- 
guments. Philip,  it  is  manifest,  must  already  have  made  use  of 
very  harsh  language  towards  the  queen  respecting  her  conduct 
in  this  affair,  for  she  deprecates  his  further  displeasure  in  very 
abject  terms  ;  but  yet  persists  in  her  resolution  with  laudable 
firmness.  Her  husband  was  so  far,  however,  from  yielding  with 
a  good  grace  a  point  on  which  he  had  certainly  no  right  to  dic- 
tate either  to  Mary  or  to  her  sister,  that  soon  afterwards  he  sent 
into  England  the  duchesses  of  Parma  and  Lorrain  for  the  pur- 
pose of  conducting  the  princess  into  Flanders : — but  this  step 
was  ill-judged.  His  coldness  and  neglect  had  by  this  time  nearly 
extinguished  the  fond  passion  of  the  queen,  who  is  said  to  have 
torn  his  picture  in  a  fit  of  rage,  on  report  of  some  disrespectful 
language  which  he  had  used  concerning  her  since  his  departure 
for  the  continent.  Resentment  and  jealousy  now  divided  her 
gloomy  soul ;  and  Philip's  behaviour,  on  which  she  had  doubtless 
her  spies,  caused  her  to  regard  the  duchess  of  Lorrain  as  the 
usurper  of  his  heart.  The  extraordinary  circumstances  of  pomp 
and  parade  with  which  this  lady,  notwithstanding  the  smallness 
of  her  revenues,  now  appeared  in  England,  confirmed  and  ag- 
gravated her  most  painful  suspicions  ;  and  so  far  from  favouring 
the  suit  urged  by  such  an  ambassadress,  Mary  became  more  than 
ever  determined  on  thwarting  it.  She  would  not  permit  the 
duchesses  to  pay  the  princess  a  single  visit  at  Hatfield  ;  and  her 
reception  gave  them  so  little  encouragement  to  persevere,  that 
they  speedily  returned  to  report  their  failure  to  him  who  sent- 
them. 

These  circumstances  seem  to  have  produced  a  cordiality  of 
feeling  and  frequency  of  intercourse  between  the  sisters  which 
had  never  before  existed.  In  February  1557,  the  princess  ar- 
rived with  a  great  retinue  at  Somerset  Place,  and  went  thence 
to  wait  upon  the  queen  at  Whitehall ;  and  when  the  spring  was 
somewhat  further  advanced,  her  majesty  honoured  her  by  re- 
turning the  visit  at  Hatfield.  The  royal  guest  was,  of  course,  to 
be  entertained  with  every  species  of  courtly  and  elegant  delight; 
and  accordingly,  on  the  morning  after  her  arrival,  she  and  the 
princess,  after  attending  mass,  went  to  witness  a  grand  exhibi- 
tion of  bear-bating,  "  with  which  their  highnesses  were  right  well 
content."  In  the  evening  the  chamber  was  adorned  with  a  sump- 
tuous suit  of  tapestry,  called,  but  from  what  circumstance  does 
not  appear,  "the  hangings  of  Antioch."  After  supper  a  play  was 
represented  by  the  choristers  of  St  Paul's,  then  the  most  applaud- 
ed actors  in  London  ;  and  after  it  was  over,  one  of  the  children 
accompanied  with  his  voice,  the  performance  of  the  princess  on 
the  virginals. 

Sir  Thomas  Pope  could  now  without  offence  gratify  his  lady 
with  another  show,  devised  by  him  in  that  spirit  of  romantic 
magnificence  equally  agreeable  to  the  taste  of  the  age  and  the 
temper  of  Elizabeth  herself.  She  was  invited  to  repair  to  En- 
field Chase  to  take  the  amusement  of  hunting  the  hart.  Twelve 
ladies  in  white  satin  attended  her  on  their  "  ambling  palfreys," 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 


113 


Und  twenty  yeomen  clad  in  green.  At  the  entrance  of  the  forest 
the  was  met  by  fifty  archers  in  scarlet  boots  and  yellow  caps, 
armed  with  gilded  bows,  one  of  whom  presented  to  her  a  silver- 
headed  arrow  wii.ged  with  peacock's  feathers.  1  he  splendid 
show  concluded,  according  to  the  established  laws  of  the  chase, 
by  (he  offering  of  the  knife  to  the  princess,  as  first  lady  on  the 
field;  and  her  taking  *«ay  of  the  buck  with  her  own  fair  and 
royal  hand. 

During  the  summer  of  the  same  year  the  queen  was  pleased  to 
invite  her  sister  to  an  entertainment  at  Richmond,  of  which  we 
have  received  some  rather  interesting  particulars.  The  princess 
was  brought  from  Somerset  Place  in  the  queen's  barge,  which  was 
richly  hung  with  garlands  of  artificial  flowers  and  covered  with 
a  canopy  of  green  sarsenet,  wrought  with  branches  of  eglantine  in 
embroidery  and  powdered  with  blossoms  of  gold.  In  the  barge 
she  was  accompanied  by  sir  Thomas  Pope  and  four  ladies  of  her 
chamber.  Six  boats  attended  filled  with  her  retinue,  habited  in 
russet  damask  and  blue  embroidered  satin,  tasseled  and  spangled 
with  silver ;  their  bonnets  cloth  of  silver  with  green  feathers. 
The  queen  received  her  in  a  sumptuous  pavilion,  in  the  la- 
byrinth of  the  gardens.  This  pavilion  which  was  of  cloth  of 
gold  and  purple  velvet,  was  made  in  the  form  of  a  castle,  pro 
bably  in  allusion  to  the  kingdom  of  Castile;  its  sides  were 
divided  in  compartments,  which  bore  alternately  the  fleur  de  lis 
in  silver,  and  the  pomegranate,  the  bearing  of  Granada,  in  gold. 
A  sumptuous  banquet  was  here  served  up  to  the  royal  ladies,  in 
which  there  was  introduced  a  pomegranate-tree  in  confectionary 
work,  bearing  the  arms  of  Spain  : — so  offensively  glaring  was  the 
preference  given  by  Mary  to  the  country  of  her  husband  and  of 
her  maternal  ancestry  over  that  of  which  she  was  a  native  and  in 
her  own  right  queen  !  There  was  no  masking  or  dancing,  but  a 
great  number  of  minstrels  performed.  The  princess  returned  to 
Somerset  Place  the  same  evening,  and  the  next  day  to  Hatfield. 

The  addresses  of  a  new  suitor  soon  after  furnished  Elizabeth 
with  an  occasion  of  gratifying  the  queen  by  fresh  demonstrations 
of  respect  and  duty.  The  king  of  Sweden  was  earnestly  desi- 
rous of  obtaining  for  Eric  his  eldest  son  the  hand  of  a  lady  whose 
reversionary  prospects,  added  to  her  merit  and  accomplishments, 
rendered  her  without  dispute  the  first  match  in  Europe.  He  had 
denied  his  son's  request  to  be  permitted  to  visit  her  in  person,  fear- 
ing that  those  violences  of  temper  and  eccentricities  of  conduct  of 
which  this  ill-fated  prince  had  already  given  strong  indications, 
might  injure  his  cause  in  the  judgment  of  so  discerning  a  prin- 
cess. The  business  was  therefore  to  be  transacted  through  the 
Swedish  ambassador;  but  he  was  directed  by  his  sovereign ^o 
make  his  application  by  a  message  to  Elizabeth  herself,  in  which 
the  queen  and  council  were  not  for  the  present  to  participate. 
The  princess  took  hold  of  this  circumstance  as  a  convenient 
pretext  for  rejecting  a  proposal  which  she  felt  no  disposition  to 
encourage ;  and  she  declared  that  she  could  never  listen  to  any 
overtures  of  this  nature  which  had  not  first  received  the  sanctiou 

P 


114 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  her  majesty.  The  ambassador  pleaded  in  answer,  that  as  a 
gentleman  his  master  had  judged  it  becoming  that  his  first  ap 
plication  should  be  made  to  herself;  but  that  should  he  be  so  happy 
as  to  obtain  her  concurrence,  he  would  then,  as  a  king,  make  his 
demand  in  form  to  the  queen  her  sister.  The  princess  replied, 
that  if  it  were  to  depend  on  herself,  a  single  life  would  ever  be 
her  choice  ;  and  she  finally  dismissed  the  suit  with  a  negative. 

On  receiving  some  hint  of  this  transaction,  Mary  sent  for  sir 
Thomas  Pope,  and  having  learned  from  him  all  the  particulars, 
she  directed  him  to  express  to  her  sister  her  high  approbation  of 
her  proper  and  dutiful  conduct  on  this  occasion ;  and  also  to 
make  himself  acquainted  with  her  sentiments  on  the  subject  of 
matrimony  in  general.  He  soon  after  transmitted  to  her  majesty 
all  the  information  she  could  desire,  in  the  following  letter : 

"  First  after  I  had  declared  to  her  grace  how  well  the  queen's 
majesty  liked  of  her  prudent  and  honourable  answer  made  to  the 
same  messenger ;  I  then  opened  unto  her  grace  the  effects  of  the 
said  messenger's  credence ;  which,  after  her  grace  had  heard,  I 
said,  the  queen's  highness  had  sent  me  to  her  grace,  not  only  to 
declare  the  same,  but  also  to  understand  how  her  grace  liked  the 
said  motion.  Whereunto,  after  a  little  pause  taken,  her  grace 
answered  in  form  following:  'Master  Pope,  I  require  you, after 
my  most  humble  commendations  to  the  queen's  majesty,  to  ren- 
der unto  the  same  like  thanks  that  it  pleased  her  highness,  of  her 
goodness  to  conceive  so  well  of  my  answer  made  to  the  same 
messenger;  and  herewithal,  of  her  princely  consideration,  with 
such  speed  to  command  you  by  your  letters  to  signify  the  same 
unto  me :  who  before  remained  wonderfully  perplexed,  fearing 
that  her  majesty  might  mistake  the  same  :  for  which,  her  good- 
ness, I  acknowledge  myself  bound  to  honour,  serve,  love,  and 
obey  her  highness  during  my  life.  Requiring  you  also  to  say 
unto  her  majesty,  that  in  the  king  my  brother's  time  there  was 
offered  me  a  very  honourable  marriage,  or  two  ;  and  ambassadors 
sent  to  treat  with  me  touching  the  same ;  whereupon,  I  made 
my  humble  suit  unto  his  highness,  as  some  of  honour  yet  living 
can  be  testimonies,  that  it  would  like  the  same  to  give  me  leave, 
with  his  grace's  favour,  to  remain  in  that  estate  I  was,  which,  of 
all  others,  best  liked  me  or  pleased  me.  And,  in  good  faith,  I 
pray  you  say  unto  her  highness,  I  am  even  at  this  present  of  the 
same  mind,  and  so  intend  to  continue,  with  her  majesty's  favour : 
and  assuring  her  highness  I  so  well  like  this  estate,  as  [  persuade 
myself  there  is  not  any  kind  of  life  comparable  unto  it.  And  as 
concerning  my  liking  the  said  motion  made  by  the  said  messen- 
ger, I  beseech  you  say  unto  her  majesty,  that,  to  my  remem- 
brance, 1  never  heard  of  his  master  before  this  time  ;  and  that  1 
so  well  like  both  the  message  and  the  messenger,  as  I  shall  most 
humbly  pray  God  upon  my  knees,  that  from  henceforth  I  never 
hear  of  the  one  nor  the  other:  assure  you  that  if  he  should  eft- 
soons  repair  unto  me,  I  would  forbear  to  speak  to  him.  And 
were  there  nothing  else  to  move  me  to  mislike  the  motion,  other 
than  that  his  master  would  attempt  the  same  without  making  the 
queen's  majesty  privy  thereunto,  it  were  cause  sufficient.' 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


115 


14  And  when  her  grace  had  thus  ended,  I  was  so  bold  as  of  my- 
self to  say  unto  her  grace,  her  pardon  first  required,  that  1  thought 
few  or  none  would  believe  but  that  her  grace  could  be  right  well 
contented  to  marry  ;  so  that  there  were  some  honourable  mar- 
riage offered  her  by  the  queen's  highness,  or  by  her  majesty's  as- 
sent. Whereunto  her  grace  answered,  '  What  I  shall  do  here- 
after I  know  not  ;  but  1  assure  you,  upon  my  truth  and  fidelity, 
and  as  God  be  merciful  unto  me,  I  am  not  at  this  time  otherwise 
minded  than  I  have  declared  unto  you  ;  no,  though  I  were  offer- 
ed the  greatest  prince  in  all  Europe,  and  yet  paixase,  the  queen's 
majesty  may  conceive  this  rather  to  proceed  of  a  maidenly 
*hamefacedness,  than  upon  any  such  certain  determination."* 

This  letter  appears  to  have  been  the  last  transaction  which  oc- 
curred between  Mary  and  Elizabeth  :  from  it,  and  from  the 
whole  of  the  notices  relative  to  the  situation  of  the  latter  thrown 
together  in  the  preceding  pages,  it  may  be  collected,  that  during 
the  three  last  years  of  her  sister's  reign, — the  period,  namely,  of 
her  residence  at  Hatfield — she  had  few  privations,  and  no  per- 
sonal hardships  to  endure:  but  for  individuals  whom  she  esteem- 
ed, for  principles  to  which  her  conscience  secretly  inclined,  for 
her  country  which  she  truly  loved,  her  apprehensions  must  have 
been  continually  excited,  and  too  often  justified  by  events  the 
most  cruel  and  disastrous. 

The  re-establishment,  by  solemn  acts  of  the  legislature,  of  the 
Romish  ritual  and  the  papal  authority,  though  attended  with  the 
entire  prohibition  of  all  protestant  worship,  was  not  sufficient  for 
the  bigotry  of  Mary.  Aware  that  the  new  doctrines  still  found 
harbour  in  the  bosoms  of  her  subjects,  she  sought  to  drag  them 
by  her  violence  from  this  last  asylum ;  for  to  her,  as  to  all  tyrants, 
it  appeared  both  desirable  and  possible  to  subject  the  liberty  of 
thinking  to  the  regulation  and  control  of  human  laws. 

By  virtue  of  her  authority  as  head  of  the  English  church — a  title 
which  the  murmurs  of  her  parliament  had  compelled  her  against 
her  conscience  to  resume  after  laying  it  aside  for  some  time, — she 
issued  an  ecclesiastical  commission,  which  wanted  nothing  of  the 
Spanish  inquisition  but  the  name.  The  commissioners  were  em- 
powered to  call  before  them  the  leading  men  in  every  parish  of 
the  kingdom,  and  to  compel  them  to  bind  themselves  by  oath  to 
give  information  against  such  of  their  neighbours  as,  by  abstain- 
ing from  attendance  at  church  or  other  symptoms  of  disaffection 
to  the  present  order  of  things,  afforded  room  to  doubt  the  sound- 
ness of  their  belief.  Articles  of  faith  were  then  offered  to  the 
suspected  persons  for  their  signature,  and  on  their  simple  refu- 
sal they  were  handed  over  to  the  civil  power,  and  fire  and  fagot 
awaited  them.  By  this  barbarous  species  of  punishment,  about 
two  hundred  and  eighty  persons  are  stated  to  have  perished  dur- 

*  Thi'  hint  of"  some  honourable  marriage,"  in  the  above  letter,  has  been  suppo- 
sed to  refer  to  the  duke  of  Savoy  ;  but  if  the  date  inscribed  upon  the  copv  which  is 
found  among  the  Harleian  MSS.  be  correct,  (April  26th,  i  558,)  this  could  not  well 
be,  sine-  the  queen,  early  in  the  preceding  year,  had  declined  to  interfere  further 
fa  his  behalf. 


116 


THE  COURT  OF 


mg  the  reign  of  Mary ;  but,  to  the  disgrace  of  the  learned,  the 
rich,. and  the  noble,  these  martyrs,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
distinguished  ecclesiastics,  were  almost  all  from  the  middling  or 
lower,  some  from  the  very  lowest  classes  of  society. 

Amongst  these  glorious  sufferers,  therefore,  the  princess  could 
have  few  personal  friends  to  regret ;  but  in  the  much  larger  num- 
ber of  the  disgraced,  the  suspected,  the  imprisoned,  the  fugitive, 
she  saw  the  greater  part  of  the  public  characters,  whether  states- 
men or  divines,  on  whose  support  and  attachment  she  had  learn- 
ed to  place  reliance. 

The  extraordinary  cruelties  exercised  upon  sir  JohmCheke, 
who,  whilst  he  held  the  post  of  preceptor  to  her  brother,  nfd  also 
assisted  in  her  own  education,  must  have  been  viewed  by  Eliza- 
beth with  strong  emotion  of  indignation  and  grief. 

It  has  been  already  mentioned,  that  after  his  release  from  im- 
prisonment incurred  in  the  cause  of  lady  Jane  Grey, — a  release, 
by  the  way,  which  was  purchased  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  landed 
property  and  all  his  appointments, — this  learned  and  estimable 
person  obtained  permission  to  travel  for  a  limited  period.  This 
was  regarded  as  a  special  favour  ;  for  it  was  one  of  Mary's  ear- 
liest acts  of  tyranny  to  prohibit  the  escape  of  her  destined  vic- 
tims, and  it  was  only  by  joining  themselves  to  the  foreign  con- 
gregations of  the  reformed,  who  had  license  to  depart  the  king- 
dom, or  by  eluding  with  much  hazard  the  vigilance  of  the  officers 
by  whom  the  seaports  were  watched,  that  any  of  her  protestant 
subjects  had  been  enabled  to  secure  liberty  of  conscience  in  a 
voluntary  exile.  It  is  a  little  remarkable  that  Rome  should 
have  been  Cheke's  first  city  of  pilgrimage  ;  but  classical  associ- 
ations in  this  instance  overcame  the  force  of  protestant  antipa- 
thies. He  took  the  opportunity  however  of  visiting  Basil  in  his 
way,  where  an  English  congregation  was  established,  and  where 
he  had  the  pleasure  of  introducing  himself  to  several  learned 
characters,  once  perhaps  the  chosen  associates  of  Erasmus. 

In  the  beginning  of  1 556,  he  had  reached  Strasburgh,  for  it  was 
thence  that  he  addressed  a  letter  to  his  dear  friend  and  brother- 
in-law  sir  William  Cecil,  who  appears  to  have  made  some  com- 
pliances with  the  times  which  alarmed  and  grieved  him.  It  is 
in  a  strain  of  the  most  affectionate  earnestness  that  he  entreats 
him  to  hold  fast  his  faith,  and  "  to  take  heed  how  he  did  in  the 
least  warp  or  strain  his  conscience  by  any  compliance  for  his 
worldly  security."  But  such  exhortations,  however  salutary  in 
themselves,  did  not  come  with  the  best  grace  from  those  who  had 
found  in  flight  a  refuge  from  the  terrors  of  that  persecution 
which  was  raging  in  all  its  fierceness  before  the  eyes  of  such  of 
their  unfortunate  brethren  as  had  found  themselves  necessitated 
to  abide  the  fiery  trial.  A  remark  by  no  means  foreign  to  the 
case  before  us!  Sir  John  Cheke's  leave  of  absence  seems  now 
to  have  expired  ;  and  it  wras  probably  with  the  design  of  making 
interest  for  its  renewal  that  he  privately  repaired,  soon  after 
the  d;;te  of  his  letter,  to  Brussels,  on  a  visit  to  his  two  learned 
friends,  lord  Paget  and  sir  John  Mason,  then  residing  in  thai 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  117 

city  as  Mary's  ambassadors.  These  men  were  recent  converts, 
u  more  likely  conformists,  to  the  court  religion;  and  Paget's 
furious  councils  against  Elizabeth  have  been  already  mentioned. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  did  not  add  to  the  guilt  of  self-inte- 
rested compliances  in  matters  of  faith  the  blacker  crime  of  a  bar- 
barous act  of  perfidy  against  a  former  associate  and  brother-pro - 
testant  who  had  scarcely  ceased  to  be  their  guest; — but  certain 
it  is,  that  on  some  secret  intimation  of  his  having  entered  his  ter- 
ritories, king  Philip  issued  special  orders  for  the  seizure  of  Cheke. 
On  his  return,  between  Brussels  and  Antwerp,  the  unhappy 
man,  with  sir  Peter  Carew  his  companion,  was  apprehended  by 
a  provost-marshal,  bound  hand  and  foot,  thrown  into  a  cart,  and 
so  conveyed  on  board  a  vessel  sailing  for  England.  He  is  said 
to  have  been  brought  to  the  Tower  muffled,  according  to  an  odi- 
ous practice  of  Spanish  despotism  introduced  into  the  country 
during  the  reign  of  Mary.  Under  the  terror  of  such  a  surprise 
the  awful  alternative  "  Comply  or  burn"  was  laid  before  him. 
Human  frailty  under  these  trying  circumstances  prevailed  ;  and 
in  an  evil  hour  this  champion  of  light  and  learning  was  tempted 
to  subscribe  his  false  assent  to  the  doctrine  of  the  real  presence 
and  the  whole  list  of  Romish  articles.  This  was  but  the  begin- 
ning of  humiliations :  he  was  now  required  to  pronounce  two 
ample  recantations,  one  before  the  queen  in  person,  the  other 
before  cardinal  Pole,  who  also  imposed  upon  him  various  acts  of 
penance.  Even  this  did  not  immediately  procure  his  liberation 
from  prison  ;  and  while  he  was  obliged  in  public  to  applaud  the 
mercy  of  his  enemies  in  terms  of  the  most  abject  submission,  he 
bewailed  in  private,  with  abundance  of  bitter  tears,  their  cruel- 
ty, and  still  more  his  own  criminal  compliance.  The  savage 
zealots  knew  not  how  to  set  bounds  to  their  triumph  over  a  man 
whom  learning  and  acknowledged  talents  and  honorable  employ- 
ments had  rendered  so  considerable. 

Even  when  at  length  he  was  set  free,  and  flattered  himself 
that  he  had  drained  to  the  dregs  his  cup  of  bitterness,  he  disco- 
vered that  the  masterpiece  of  barbarity,  the  refinement  of  insult, 
was  yet  in  store.  He  was  required,  as  evidence  of  the  sinceri- 
ty of  his  conversion  and  a  token  of  his  complete  restoration  to 
royal  favour,  to  take  his  seat  on  the  bench  by  the  side  of  the  sa- 
vage Bonner,  and  assist  at  the  condemnation  of  his  brother-pro- 
testants.  The  unhappy  man  did  not  refuse, — so  thoroughly  was 
his  spirit  subdued  within  him, — but  it  broke  his  heart ;  and  re- 
tiring at  last  to  the  house  of  an  old  and  learned  friend,  whose 
door  was  open  to  him  in  Christian  charity,  he  there  ended  within 
a  few  .months,  his  miserable  life,  a  prey  to  shame,  remorse,  and 
melancholy.  A  sadder  tale  the  annals  of  persecution  do  not  fur- 
nish, or  one  more  humbling  to  the  pride  and  confidence  of  hu- 
man virtue.  Many  have  failed  under  lighter  trials ;  few  have 
expiated  a  failure  by  sufferings  so  severe.  How  often  must  this 
victim  of  a  wounded  spirit  have  dwelt  with  envy,  amid  his  slower 
torments,  on  the  brief  agonies  and  lasting  crown  of  a  courageous 
martyrdom! 


118 


THE  COURT  OF 


It  is  happily  not  possible  for  a  kingdom  to  flourish  under  the 
crushing  weight  of  such  a  tyranny  as  that  of  Mary.  The  re- 
treat of  the  foreign  protestants  had  robbed  the  country  of  hun- 
dreds of  industrious  and  skilful  artificers ;  the  arbitrary  exac- 
tions of  the  queen  impoverished  and  discouraged  the  trading 
classes,  against  whom  they  principally  operated  ;  tumults  and 
insurrections  were  frequent,  aud  afforded  a  pretext  for  the  in- 
troduction of  Spanish  troops  ;  the  treasury  was  exhausted  in  ef- 
forts for  maintaining  the  power  of  the  sovereign,  restoring  the 
church  to  opulence  and  splendour,  and  re-edifying  the  fallen  mo- 
nasteries. To  add  to  these  evils,  a  foreign  marriage  rendered 
both  the  queen  and  country  subservient  to  the  interested  or  am- 
bitious projects  of  the  Spanish  sovereign.  For  his  sake  a  need- 
less war  was  declared  against  France,  which,  after  draining  en 
tirely  an  already  failing  treasury,  ended  in  the  loss  of  Calais, 
the  last  remaining  trophy  of  the  victories  by  which  the  Edwards 
and  the  Henrys  had  humbled  in  the  d«st  the  pride  and  power  of 
France. 

This  last  stroke  completed  the  dejection  of  the  nation ;  and 
Mary  herself,  who  was  by  no  means  destitute  of  sensibility  where 
the  honour  of  her  crown  was  concerned,  sunk  into  an  incurable 
melancholy.  "  When  I  die,"  said  she  to  her  attendants  who 
sought  to  discover  the  cause  of  her  despondency,  "  Calais  will 
be  found  at  my  heart." 

The  unfeeling  desertion  of  her  husband,  the  consciousness  of 
having  incurred  the  hatred  of  her  subjects,  the  unprosperous  state 
of  her  affairs,  and  the  well  founded  apprehension  that  her  suc- 
cessor would  once  more  overthrow  the  whole  edifice  of  papal 
power  which  she  had  laboured  with  such  indefatigable  ardour  to 
restore,  may  each  be  supposed  to  have  infused  its  own  drop  of 
bitterness  into  the  soul  of  this  unhappy  princess.  The  long  and 
severe  mortifications  of  her  youth,  while  they  soured  her  temper, 
had  also  undermined  her  constitution,  and  contributed  to  bring 
upon  her  a  premature  old  age ;  dropsical  symptoms  began  to  ap- 
pear, and,  after  a  lingering  illness  of  nearly  half  a  year  she  sunk 
into  the  grave  on  the  17th  day  of  November,  1558,  in  the  fortv- 
fourth  year  of  her  age. 


4 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 


MM 


CHAPTER  IX. 

1558  and  1559. 

General  joy  on  the  accession  of  Elizabeth. —  Views  of  the  nobility 
—of  the  middling  and  lower  classes. — Flattery  with  which  she 
is  addressed. — Descriptions  of  her  person. — Her  first  privy -coun- 
cil.— Parry  and  Cecil  brought  into  office. — Notices  of  each. — 
Death  of  cardinal  Pole. — The  queen  enters  London — passes  to 
the  Tower. — Lord  Robert  Dudley  her  master  of  the  horse. — No- 
tices respecting  him.—  Hie  queen' 's  treatment  of  her  relations. — 
The  Howard  family. — Sir  Richard  Sackville. — Henry  Gary. — 
Hie  last  created  lord  Hunsdon. — Preparations  in  London 
against  the  queen'' s  coronation. — Splendid  costume  of  the  age. 
— She  passes  by  water  from  Westminster  to  the  Tower. — 
The  procession  described. — Her  passage  through  the  city. — 
Pageants  exhibited. — The  bishops  refuse  to  crown  her. — Bishop 
of  Carlisle  prevailed  on. — Religious  sentiments  of  the  queen. — 
Prohibition  of  preaching — of  theatrical  exhibition. 

Never,  perhaps,  was  the  accession  of  any  prince  the  subject 
©f  such  keen  and  lively  interest  to  a  whole  people  as  that  of  Eli- 
zabeth. 

Both  in  the  religious  establishments  and  political  relations  of 
the  country,  the  most  important  changes  were  anticipated ; 
changes  in  which  the  humblest  individual  found  himself  concern- 
ed, and  to  which  a  vast  majority  of  the  nation  looked  forward 
with  hope  and  joy. 

With  the  courtiers  and  great  nobles,  whose  mutability  of  faith 
had  so  happily  corresponded  with  every  ecclesiastical  vicissitude 
of  the  last  three  reigns,  political  and  personal  considerations  may 
well  be  supposed  to  have  held  the  first  place ;  and  though  the 
old  religion  might  still  be  endeared  to  them  by  many  cherished 
associations  and  by  early  prejudice,  there  were  few  among  them 
who  did  not  regard  the  liberation  of  the  country  from  Spanish 
influence  as  ample  compensation  for  the  probable  restoration  of 
the  religious  establishment  of  Henry  or  of  Edward.  Besides, 
there  was  scarcely  an  individual  belonging  to  these  classes  who 
had  not,  in  some  manner,  partaken  of  the  plunder  of  the  church, 
and  whom  the  avowed  principles  of  Mary  had  not  disquieted  with 
apprehensions  that  some  plan  of  compulsory  restitution  would 
sooner  or  later  be  attempted  by  an  union  of  royal  and  papal  au- 
thority. 

With  the  middling  and  lower  classes  religious  views  and  feel- 
ings were  predominant.  The  doctrines  of  the  new  and  better 
system  of  faith  and  worship  had  now  become  more  precious  and 
important  than  ever  in  the  eyes  of  its  adherents  from  the  hard- 
ships which  many  of  them  had  encountered  for  its  sake,  and 


120 


THE  COURT  OF 


from  the  interest  which  each  disciple  vindicated  to  himself  in  the 
glory  and  merit  of  the  holy  martyrs  whose  triumphant  exit  they 
had  witnessed.  With  all  the  fervour  of  pious  gratitude  they  of- 
f-red up  their  thanksgivings  for  the  signal  deliverance  by  which 
their  prayers  had  been  answered.  The  bloody  tyranny  of  Mary 
was  at  an  end  ;  and  though  the  known  conformity  of  Elizabeth 
to  Romish  rites  might  apparently  give  room  for  doubts  and  sus- 
picions, it  should  seem  that  neither  catholics  nor  protestants 
were  willing  to  believe  that  the  daughter  of  Anne  Boleyn  could 
in  her  heart  be  a  papist.  Under  this  impression  the  citizens  of 
London,  who  spoke  the  sense  of  their  own  class  throughout  the 
kingdom,  welcomed  the  new  queen  as  a  protectress  sent  by  Hea- 
ven itself:  but  even  in  the  first  transports  of  their  joy,  and  amid 
the  pompous  pageantries  by  which  their  loyal  congratulations 
were  expressed,  they  took  care  to  intimate,  in  a  manner  not  to  be 
misunderstood,  their  hopes  and  expectations  on  the  great  concern 
now  nearest  to  their  hearts. 

Prudence  confined  within  their  own  bosoms  the  regrets  and 
murmurs  of  the  popish  clergy;  submission  and  a  simulated  loy- 
alty were  at  present  obviously  their  only  policy :  thus  not  a  whis- 
per breathed  abroad  but  of  joy  and  gratulation  and  happy  pre- 
sage of  the  days  to  come. 

The  sex,  the  youth,  the  accomplishments,  the  graces,  the  past 
misfortunes  of  the  princess,  all  served  to  heighten  the  interest 
with  which  she  was  beheld  :  the  age  of  chivalry  had  not  yet  ex- 
pired ;  and  in  spite  of  the  late  unfortunate  experience  of  a  fe- 
male reign,  the  romantic  image  of  a  maiden  queen  dazzled  all 
eyes,  subdued  all  hearts,  inflamed  the  imaginations  of  the  brave 
and  courtly  youth  with  visions  of  love  and  glory,  exalted  into  a 
passionate  homage  the  principle  of  loyalty,  and  urged  adulation 
to  the  very  brink  of  idolatry.  , 
The  fulsome  compliments  on  her  beauty  which  Elizabeth,  al- 
most to  the  latest  period  of  her  life,  not  only  permitted  but  re- 
quired and  delighted  in,  have  been  adverted  to  by  all  the  writers 
who  have  made  her  reign  and  character  their  theme  :  and  those 
of  the  number  whom  admiration  and  pity  of  the  fair  queen  of 
Scots  have  rendered  hostile  to  her  memory,  have  taken  a  mali- 
cious pleasure  in  exaggerating  the  extravagance  of  this  weak- 
ness, by  denying  her,  even  in  her  freshest  years,  all  pretensions 
to  those  personal  charms  by  which  her  rival  was  so  eminently 
distinguished.  Others,  however,  have  been  more  favourable,  and 
probably  more  just,  to  her  on  this  point;  and  it  would  be  an  injury 
to  her  memory  to  withhold  from  the  reader  the  following  por- 
traitures which  authorise  us  to  form  a  pleasing  as  well  as  majes- 
tic image  of  this  illustrious  female  at  the  period  of  her  accession 
and  at  the  age  of  five-and -twenty. 

"  She  was  a  lady  of  great  beauty,  of  decent  stature,  and  of  an 
excellent  shape.  In  her  youth  she  was  adorned  with  a  more 
than  usual  maiden  modesty  ;  her  skin  was  of  pure  white,  and  her 
hair  of  a  yellow  colour ;  her  eyes  were  beautiful  and  lively.  In 
short,  her  whole  body  was  well  made,  and  her  face  was  adorned 


v  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


121 


with  a  wonderful  and  sweet  beauty  and  majesty.  This  beauty 
lasted  till  her  middle  age,  though  it  declined/"  &c. 

"She  was  of  personage  tall,  of  hair  and  complexion  fair,  and 
therewith  well  favoured,  but  high  nosed  ;  of  limbs  and  feature 
neat,  and,  which  added  to  the  lustre  of  those  exterior  graces,  of 
stately  and  majestic  comportment;  participating  in  this  more  of 
her  father  than  her  mother,  who  was  of  an  inferior  allay,  plausible, 
or,  as  the  French  hath  it,  more  debonnaire  and  affable,  virtues 
which  might  suit  well  with  majesty,  and  which  descending  as 
hereditary  to  the  daughter,  did  render  her  of  a  more  sweeter 
temper,  and  endeared  her  more  to  the  love  and  liking  of  her 
people,  who  gave  her  the  name  and  fame  of  a  most  gracious  and 
popular  prince.t" 

The  death  of  Mary  was  announced  to  the  two  houses,  which 
were  then  sitting,  by  Heath  bishop  of  Ely,  the  lord-chancellor. 
In  both  assemblies,  after  the  decorum  of  a  short  pause,  the  notifi- 
cation was  followed  by  joyful  shouts  of  "  God  save  queen  Eliza- 
beth !  long  and  happily  may  she  reign  !"  and  with  great  alacrity 
the  members  issued  out  to  proclaim  the  new  sovereign  before 
the  palace  in  Westminster  and  again  at  the  great  cross  in  Cheap- 
side. 

The  Londoners  knew  not  how  to  contain  their  joy  on  this 
happy  occasion : — the  bells  of  all  the  churches  were  set  ringing, 
bonfires  were  kindled,  and  tables  were  spread  in  the  streets  ac- 
cording to  the  bountiful  and  hospitable  custom  of  that  day, 
•*  where  was  plentiful  eating,  drinking,  and  making  merry." 
On  the  following  Sunday  Te  Deum  was  sung  in  the  churches ; 
probably  an  unexampled,  however  merited,  expression  of  disre- 
spect to  the  memory  of  the  former  sovereign. 

Elizabeth  received  the  news  of  her  own  accession  at  Hatfield. 
We  are  not  told  that  she  affected  any  great  concern  for  the  loss 
of  her  sister,  much  less  did  any  unbecoming  sign  of  exultation 
escape  her ;  but  "  falling  on  her  knees,  after  a  good  time  of  re- 
spiration she  uttered  th  is  verse  of  the  Psalms :  A  Domino  factum 
est  istud,  et  est  mirabile  oculis  nostris%;  which  to  this  day  we 
find  on  the  stamp  of  her  gold :  with  this  on  her  silver,  Posui 
Deum  adjutorem  meiwi§."  || 

Several  noblemen  of  the  late  queen's  council  now  repairing  to 
her,  she  held  at  Hatfield  on  November  the  20th  her  first  privy- 
council  ;  at  which  she  declared  sir  Thomas  Parry  comptroller  of 
her  household,  sir  Edward  Rogers  captain  of  the  guard,  and  sir 
William  Cecil  principal  secretary  of  state,  all  three  being  at  the 
same  time  admitted  to  the  council-board.  From  these  appoint- 
ments, the  first  of  her  reign,  some  presages  might  be  drawn  of  her 
future  government  favourable  to  her  own  character  and  corres^ 
pondent  to  the  wishes  of  her  people. 

*  Bohun's  "  Character  of  Queen  Elizabeth." 

f  Naunton's  «'  Fragmenta  Regalia." 

+  It  is  the  Lord's  doing,  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes. 

$  I  have  ehosen  God  for  my  helper.  |  «  Fragmenta  Regalia.?' 


122 


THE  COURT  OF 


Parry  was  the  person  who  had  filled  for  many  years  the  office 
of  her  cofferer,  who  was  perfectly  in  the  secret  of  whatever  con- 
fidential intercourse  she  might  formerly  have  held  with  the  lord- 
admiral,  and  whose  fidelity  to  her  in  that  business  had  stood  firm 
against  all  the  threats  of  the  protector  and  council,  and  the  arti- 
fices of  those  by  whom  his  examination  had  been  conducted. 
That  mindfulness  of  former  services,  of  which  the  advancement 
of  this  man  formed  by  no  means  a  solitary  instance  in  the  conduct 
of  Elizabeth,  appeared  the  more  commendable  in  her,  because 
she  accompanied  it  with  a  generous  oblivion  of  the  many  slights 
and  injuries  to  which  her  defenceless  and  persecuted  condition 
had  so  long  exposed  her  from  others. 

The  merit  of  Cecil  was  already  in  part  known  to  the  public ; 
and  his  promotion  to  an  office  of  such  importance  was  a  happy 
omen  for  the  protestant  cause,  his  attachment  to  which  had  been 
judged  the  sole  impediment  to  his  advancement  under  the  late 
reign  to  situations  of  power  and  trust  corresponding  with  the 
opinion  entertained  of  his  integrity  and  political  wisdom.  A 
brief  retrospect  of  the  scenes  of  public  life  in  which  he  had  al- 
ready been  an  actor  will  best  explain  the  character  and  senti- 
ments of  this  eminent  person,  destined  to  wield  for  more  than 
forty  years  with  unparalleled  skill  and  felicity,  under  a  mistress 
who  knew  his  value,  the  energies  of  the  English  state. 

Born,  in  1520,  the  son  of  the  master  of  the  royal  wardrobe, 
Cecil  early  engaged  the  notice  of  Henry  VIII.  by  the  fame  of  a  re- 
ligous  dispute  which  he  had  held  in  Latin  with  two  popish  priests 
attached  to  the  Irish  chieftain  O'Neal.  A  place  in  reversion 
freely  bestowed  on  him  by  the  king  at  once  rewarded  the  zeal  of 
the  young  polemic,  and  encouraged  him  to  desert  the  profession 
of  the  law,  in  which  he  had  embarked,  for  the  political  career. 

His  marriage  with  the  sister  of  sir  John  Cheke  strengthened 
his  interest  at  court  by  procuring  him  an  introduction  to  the  earl 
of  Hertford,  and  early  in  the  reign  of  Edward  this  powerful  pa- 
tronage obtained  for  him  the  office  of  secretary  of  state.  In  the 
first  disgrace  of  the  protector  he  lost  his  place,  and  was  for  a 
short  time  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower ;  but  his  compliant  conduct 
soon  restored  him  to  favour :  he  scrupled  not  to  draw  the  articles 
of  impeachment  against  the  protector;  and  Northumberland, 
finding  him  both  able  in  business  and  highly  acceptable  to  the 
young  monarch,  procured  or  permitted  his  re-instatement  in 
office  in  September  1550. 

Cecil,  however,  was  both  too  wary  and  too  honest  to  regard 
himself  as  pledged  to  the  support  of  Northumberland's  inordinate 
schemes  of  ambition ;  and  scarcely  any  public  man  of  the  day, 
attached  to  the  protestant  cause,  escaped  better  in  the  affair  of 
lady  Jane  Grey.  It  is  true  that  one  writer  accuses  him  of  having 
drawn  all  the  papers  in  her  favour ;  but  this  appears  to  be,  iu  part 
at  least,  either  a  mistake  or  a  calumny ;  and  it  seems,  on  the 
contrary,  that  he  refused  to  Northumberland  some  services  of 
this  nature.    It  has  already  been  mentioned  that  his  name  ap- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


123 


peared  with  those  of  the  other  privy-councillors  to  Edward's 
settlement  of  the  crown  ;  and  his  plea  of  having  signed  it  merely 
as  a  witness  to  the  king's  signature,  deserves  to  be  regarded  as 
a  kind  of  subterfuge.  But  he  was  early  in  paying  his  respects  to 
Mary,  and  he  took  advantage  of  the  graciousness  with  which  she 
received  his  explanations  to  obtain  a  general  pardon,  which  pro- 
tected hiin  from  all  personal  danger.  He  lost  however  his  place 
of  secretary,  which  some  have  affirmed  that  he  might  have  re- 
tained by  further  compliances  in  religion.  This  however  is 
the  more  doubtful,  because  it  cannot  be  questioned  that  he  must 
have  yielded  a  good  deal  on  this  point,  without  which  he  neither 
could  nor  would  have  made  one  of  a  deputation  sent  to  conduct 
to  England  cardinal  Pole  the  papal  legate,  nor  probably  would 
he  have  been  joined  in  commission  with  the  cardinal  and  other 
persons  sent  to  treat  of  a  peace  with  France. 

But  admitting,  as  we  must,  that  this  eminent  statesman  was 
far  from  aspiring  to  the  praise  of  a  confessor,  he  will  still  be 
found  to  deserve  high  commendation  for  the  zeal  and  courage 
with  which,  as  a  member  of  parliament,  he  defended  the  interests 
of  his  oppressed  and  suffering  fellow-protestants.  At  consi- 
derable hazard  to  himself,  he  opposed  with  great  freedom  of 
speech  a  bill  for  confiscating  the  property  of  exiles  for  religion ; 
and  he  appears  to  have  escaped  committal  to  the  Tower  on 
this  account,  solely  by  the  presence  of  mind  which  he  exhibited 
before  the  council,  and  the  friendship  of  some  of  its  members. 

He  is  known  to  have  maintained  a  secret  and  intimate  corres- 
pondence with  Elizabeth  during  the  time  of  her  adversity,  and 
to  have  assisted  her  on  various  trying  occasions  with  his  salutary 
counsels ;  and  nothing  could  be  more  interesting  than  to  trace 
the  origin  and  progress  of  that  confidential  relation  between 
these  eminent  and  in  many  respects  congenial  characters,  which 
after  a  long  course  of  years  was  only  terminated  by  the  hand  of 
death ; — but  materials  for  this  purpose  are  unfortunately  wanting. 

The  letters  on  both  sides  were  probably  sacrificed  by  the 
parties  themselves  to  the  caution  which  their  situation  required ; 
and  among  the  published  extracts  from  the  Burleigh  papers,  only 
a  single  document  is  found  relative  to  the  connexion  subsisting 
between  them  during  the  reign  of  Mary.  This  is  a  short  and 
uninteresting  letter  addressed  to  Cecil  by  sir  Thomas  Benger» 
one  of  the  princess's  officers,  in  which,  after  some  mention  of 
accounts,  not  now  intelligible,  he  promises  that  he  and  sir 
Thomas  Parry  will  move  the  princess  to  grant  his  correspondent's 
request,  which  is  not  particularised,  and  assures  him  that  as  his 
coming  thither  would  be  thankfully  received,  so  he  wishes  that 
all  the  friends  of  the  princess  entertained  the  same  sense  of  that 
matter  as  he  does.  The  letter  seems  to  point  at  some  official 
concern  of  Cecil  in  the  affairs  of  Elizabeth.  It  is  dated  October 
24th  1556. 

The  private  character  of  Cecil  was  in  every  respect  exemplary, 
and  his  disposition  truly  amiable.  His  second  marriage  with 
one  of  the  learned  daughters  of  sir  Anthony  Cook  conferred  upon 


124 


THE  COURT  OF 


him  that  exalted  species  of  domestic  happiness  which  a  sympa- 
thy in  mental  endowments  can  alone  bestow;  whilst  it  had  the 
further  advantage  of  connecting  him  with  the  excellent  man  her 
father,  with  sir  Nicholas  Bacon  and  sir  Thomas  Hobby,  the  hus- 
bands of  two  of  her  sisters,  and  generally  with  the  wisest  and 
most  conscientious  supporters  of  the  protestant  interest.  This 
great  minister  was  honourably  distinguished  through  life  by  an 
ardour  and  constancy  of  friendship  rare  in  all  classes  of  men, 
but  esteemed  peculiarly  so  in  those  whose  lives  are  occupied 
amid  the  heartless  ceremonial  of  courts  and  the  political  intrigues 
of  princes.  His  attachments,  as  they  never  degenerated  into 
the  weakness  of  favouritism,  were  as  much  a  source  of  benefit  to 
his  country  as  of  enjoyment  to  himself ;  for  his  friends  were 
those  of  virtue  and  the  state.  And  there  were  few  among  the 
more  estimable  public  men  of  this  reign  who  were  not  indebted 
either  for  their  first  introduction  to  the  notice  of  Elizabeth,  their 
continuance  in  her  favour,  or  their  restoration  to  it  when  unde- 
servedly lost,  to  the  generous  patronage  or  powerful  interces- 
sion of  Cecil. 

On  appointing  him  a  member  of  her  council,  the  queen  ad- 
dressed her  secretary  in  the  following  gracious  words  : 

"  I  give  you  this  charge,  that  you  shall  be  of  my  privy-council, 
and  content  yourself  to  take  pains  for  me  and  my  realm.  This 
judgment  I  have  of  you,  that  you  will  not  be  corrupted  with  any 
gift,  and  that  you  will  be  faithful  to  the  state,  and  that,  without 
respect  of  my  private  will,  you  will  give  me  that  counsel  that 
you  think  best :  And  that  if  you  shall  know  any  thing  necessary 
to  be  declared  to  me  of  secrecy,  you  shall  show  it  to  myself  only, 
and  assure  yourself  1  will  not  fail  to  keep  taciturnity  therein. 
And  therefore  herewith  I  charge  you.''* 

Cardinal  Pole  was  not  doomed  to  be  an  eye-witness  of  the 
relapse  of  the  nation  into  what  he  must  have  regarded  as  heresy 
of  the  most  aggravated  nature  ;  he  expired  a  few  hours  after  his 
royal  kinswoman  :  and  Elizabeth,  with  due  consideration  for  the 
illustrious  ancestry,  the  learning,  the  moderation,  and  the  blame- 
less manners  of  the  man,  authorised  his  honourable  interment 
at  Canterbury  among  the  archbishops  his  predecessors,  with  the 
attendance  of  two  bishops,  his  ancient  friends  and  the  faithful 
companions  of  his  long  exile. 

On  November  23d,  the  queen  set  forward  for  her  capital  at- 
tended by  a  train  of  about  a  thousand  nobles,  knights,  gentlemen, 
and  ladies,  and  took  up  her  abode  for  the  present  at  the  dissolved 
monastery  of  the  Chartreux,  or  Charterhouse,  then  the  residence 
of  lord  North;  a  splendid  pile  which  offered  ample  accommoda- 
tion for  a  royal  retinue.  Her  next  remove,  in  compliance  with 
ancient  custom,  was  to  the  Tower.  On  this  occasion  all  the 
streets  from  the  Charterhouse  were  spread  with  fine  gravel ; 
singers  and  musicians  were  stationed  by  the  way,  and  a  vast 
concourse  of  people  freely  lent  their  joyful  and  admiring  accla- 


*  "  Nugse  Antiquse." 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  125 

mations,  a9  preceded  by  her  heralds  and  great  officers,  and  richly 
attired  in  purple  velvet,  she  passed  along  mounted  on  her  palf  rey, 
and  returning  the  salutations  of  the  humblest  of  her  subjects 
with  graceful  and  winning  affability. 

With  what  vivid  and  what  affecting  impressions  of  the  vicissi- 
tudes attending  on  the  great,  must  she  have  passed  again  within 
the  antique  walls  of  that  fortress  once  her  dungeon,  now  her  pa- 
lace !  She  had  entered  it  by  the  Traitor's  gate,  a  terrified  and 
defenceless  prisoner,  smarting  under  many  wrongs,  hopeless  of 
deliverance,  and  apprehending  nothing  less  than  an  ignominious 
death.  She  had  quitted  it,  still  a  captive,  under  the  guard  of 
armed  men,  to  be  conducted  she  knew  not  whither.  She  return- 
ed to  it  in  all  the  pomp  of  royalty,  surrounded  by  the  ministers 
of  her  power,  ushered  by  the  applauses  of  her  people ;  the  che- 
rished object  of  every  eye,  the  idol  of  every  heart. 

Devotion  alone  could  supply  becoming  language  to  the  emotions 
which  swelled  her  bosom  ;  and  no  sooner  had  she  reached  the 
royal  apartments,  than  falling  on  her  knees  she  returned  humble 
and  fervent  thanks  to  that  Providence  which  had  brought  her  in 
safety,  like  Daniel  from  the  den  of  lions,  to  behold  this  day  of 
exaltation. 

Elizabeth  was  attended  on  her  passage  to  the  Tower  by  one 
who  like  herself  returned  with  honour  to  that  place  of  his  former 
captivity ;  but  not,  like  herself,  with  a  mind  disciplined  by  ad- 
versity to  receive  with  moderation  and  wisdom  "  the  good  vicis- 
situde of  joy."  This  person  was  lord  Robert  Dudley,  whom  the 
queen  had  thus  early  encouraged  to  aspire  to  her  future  favours 
by  appointing  him  to  the  office  of  master  of  the  horse. 

We  are  totally  uninformed  of  the  circumstances  which  had 
recommended  to  her  peculiar  patronage  this  bad  son  of  a  bad 
father;  whose  enterprises, if  successful,  would  have  disinherited 
of  a  kingdom  Elizabeth  herself  no  less  than  Mary.  But  it  is  re- 
markable, that  even  under  the  reign  of  the  latter,  the  surviving 
members  of  the  Dudley  family  had  been  able  to  recover  in  great 
measure  from  the  effects  of  their  late  signal  reverses.  Lord 
Robert,  soon  after  his  release  from  the  Tower,  contrived  to  make 
himself  so  acceptable  to  king  Philip  by  his  courtier-like  atten- 
tions, and  to  Mary  by  his  diligence  in  posting  backwards  and 
forwards  to  bring  her  intelligence  of  her  husband  during  his  long 
visits  to  the  continent,  that  he  earned  from  the  latter  several 
marks  of  favour.  Two  of  his  brothers  fought,  and  one  fell,  in 
the  battle  of  St.  Quintin's ;  and  immediately  afterwards  the 
duchess  their  mother  found  means,  through  some  Spanish  inte- 
rests and  connexions,  to  procure  the  restoration  in  blood  of  all 
her  surviving  children.  The  appointment  of  Robert  to  the  place 
of  master  of  the  ordnance  soon  followed ;  so  that  even  before 
the  accession  of  Elizabeth  he  might  be  regarded  as  a  rising  man 
in  the  state.  His  personal  graces  and  elegant  accomplishments, 
are  on  all  hands  acknowledged  to  have  been  sufficiently  striking 
to  dazzle  the  eyes  and  charm  the  heart  of  a  young  princess  of  a 
lively  imagination  and  absolute  mistress  of  her  own  actions. 


126 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  circumstance  of  his  being  already  married,  blinded  her  per- 
haps to  the  nature  of  her  sentiments  towards  him,  or  at  least  it 
was  regarded  by  her  as  a  sufficient  sanction  in  the  eyes  of  the 
public  for  those  manifestations  of  favour  and  esteem  with  which 
she  was  pleased  to  honour  him.  But  whether  the  affection  which 
she  entertained  for  him  best  deserved  the  name  of  friendship  or 
a  still  tenderer  one,  seems  after  all  a  question  of  too  subtile  and 
obscure  a  nature  for  sober  discussion ;  though  in  a  French  "  cour 
d?  amour"  it  might  have  furnished  pleas  and  counterpleas  of  ex- 
quisite ingenuity,  prodigious  sentimental  interest,  and  length 
interminable.  What  is  unfortunately  too  certain  is,  that  he  was 
a  favourite,  and  in  the  common  judgment  of  the  court,  of  the 
nation,  and  of  posterity,  an  unworthy  one  ;  but  calumny  and 
prejudice  alone  have  dared  to  attack  the  reputation  of  the  queen. 

Elizabeth  had  no  propensity  to  exalt  immoderately  her  rela- 
tions by  the  mother's  side  ; — for  she  neither  loved  nor  honoured 
that  mother's  memory  ;  but  several  of  the  number  may  be  men- 
tioned, whose  merits  towards  herself,  or  whose  qualifications  for 
the  public  service,  justly  entitled  them  to  share  in  her  distribu- 
tion of  offices  and  honours,  and  whom  she  always  treated  with 
distinction.  The  whole  illustrious  family  ef  the  Howards  were 
her  relations  ;  and  in  the  first  year  of  her  reign  she  conferred  on 
the  duke  of  Norfolk,  her  second -cousin,  the  order  of  the  garter. 
Her  great-uncle  lord  William  Howard,  created  baron  of  Effing- 
ham by  Mary,  was  continued  by  her  in  the  high  office  of  lord- 
chamberlain,  and  soon  after  appointed  one  of  the  commissioners 
for  concluding  a  peace  with  France.  Lord  Thomas  Howard, 
her  mother's  first-cousin,  who  had  treated  her  with  distinguished 
respect  and  kindness  on  her  arrival  at  Hampton  Court  from 
Woodstock,  and  had  the  further  merit  of  being  indulgent  to  pro- 
testants  during  the  persecutions  of  Mary,  received  from  her  the 
title  of  viscount  Bindon,  and  continued  much  in  her  favour  to 
the  end  of  his  days. 

Sir  Richard  Sackville,  also  her  mother's  first-cousin,  had  filled 
different  fiscal  offices  under  the  three  last  reigns  ;  he  was  a  man, 
of  abilities,  and  derived  from  a  long  line  of  ancestors  great  es- 
tates and  extensive  influence  in  the  county  of  Sussex.  The  peo- 
ple, who  marked  his  growing  wealth,  and  to  whom  he  was  per- 
haps officially  obnoxious,  nicknamed  him  Fill-sack:  in  Mary's 
time  he  was  a  catholic,  a  privy-councillor,  and  chancellor  of  the 
court  of  Augmentations ;  under  her  successor  he  changed  the 
first  designation  and  retained  the  two  last,  which  he  probably 
valued  more.  He  is  chiefly  memorable  as  the  father  of  Sackville 
the  poet,  afterwards  lord  Buckhurst  and  progenitor  of  the  dukes 
of  Dorset. 

Sir  Francis  Knolles,  whose  lady  was  one  of  the  queen's  near- 
est kinswomen,  was  deservedly  called  to  the  privy-council  on 
his  return  from  his  voluntary  banishment  for  conscience'  sake; 
his  sons  gained  considerable  influence  in  the  court  of  Elizabeth : 
his  daughter,  the  mother  of  Essex,  and  afterwards  the  wife  of 
Leicester,  was  for  various  reasons  long  an  object  of  the  queen's 
3  particular  aversion. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


127 


But  of  all  her  relations,  the  one  who  had  deserved  most  at  her 
hands  was  Henry  Carey,  brother  to  a  lady  Knolles,  and  son  to 
Mary  Boleyn,  her  majesty's  aunt.  This  gentleman  had  expended 
several  thousand  pounds  of  his  own  patrimony  in  her  service  and 
relief  during  the  time  of  her  imprisonment,  and  she  liberally 
requited  his  friendship  at  her  first  creation  of  peers,  by  confer- 
ring upon  him,  with  the  title  of  baron  Hunsdon,  the  royal  resi- 
dence of  that  name,  with  its  surrounding  park  and  several  bene- 
ficial leases  of  crown  lands.  He  was  afterwards  joined  in  va- 
rious commissions  and  offices  of  trust:  but  his  remuneration 
was,  on  the  whole,  by  no  means  exorbitant ;  for  he  was  not  ra- 
pacious, and  consequently  not  importunate ;  and  the  queen,  in 
the  employments  which  she  assigned  him,  seemed  rather  to  con- 
sult her  own  advantage  and  that  of  her  country,  by  availing  her- 
self of  the  abilities  of  a  diligent  and  faithful  servant,  than  to 
please  herself  by  granting  rewards  to  an  affectionate  and  gene- 
rous kinsman.  In  fact,  lord  Hunsdon  was  skilled  as  little  in 
the  ceremonious  and  sentimental  gallantry  which  she  required 
from  her  courtiers,  as  in  the  circumspect  and  winding  policy 
which  she  approved  in  her  statesmen.  "  As  he  lived  in  a  ruffling 
time,"  says  Naunton,  "  so  he  loved  sword  and  buckler  men,  and 
such  as  our  fathers  wont  to  call  men  of  their  hands,  of  which 
sort  he  had  many  brave  gentlemen  that  followed  him  ;  yet  not 
taken  for  a  popular  or  dangerous  person."  Though  extremely 
choleric,  he  was  honest,  and  not  at  all  malicious.  It  was  said  of 
him,  that  "  his  Latin  and  his  dissimulation  were  both  alike," 
equally  bad,  and  that  "  his  custom  in  swearing  and  obscenity  in 
speech  made  him  seem  a  worse  Christian  than  he  was." 

Fuller  relates  of  him  the  following  characteristic  anecdote. 
"  Once,  one  Mr.  Colt  chanced  to  meet  him  coming  from  Huns- 
don to  London,  in  the  equipage  of  a  lord  of  those  days.  The 
lord,  on  some  former  grudge,  gave  him  a  box  on  the  ear :  Colt 
presently  returned  the  principal  with  interest ;  and  thereupon 
his  servants  drawing  their  swords,  swarmed  about  him.  *  You 
rogues,'  said  my  lord,  'may  not  I  and  my  neighbour  change  a 
blow  but  you  must  interpose  ?'  Thus  the  quarrel  was  begun  and 
ended  in  the  same  minute."* 

The  queen's  attachment  to  such  of  her  family  as  she  was 
pleased  to  honour  with  her  notice,  was  probably  the  more  con- 
stant because  there  was  nothing  in  it  of  excess  or  of  blindness  ; 
— even  Leicester  in  the  height  of  his  favour  felt  that  he  must 
hold  sacred  their  claims  to  her  regard  :  according  to  Naunton's 
phrase,  he  used  to  say  of  Sackville  and  Hunsdon,  "  that  they 
were  of  the  tribe  of  Dan,  and  were  Noli  me  tangere's" 

After  a  few  days  spent  in  the  Tower,  Elizabeth  passed  by 
water  to  Somerset  Place  ;  and  thence,  about  a  fortnight  after, 
when  the  funeral  of  her  predecessor  was  over,  to  the  palace  of 
Westminster,  where  she  kept  her  Christmas. 

Busy  preparation  was  now  making  in  her  good  city  of  London 

*  «  Worthies"  in  Herts. 


128 


THE  COURT  OF 


against  the  solemn  day  of  her  passage  in  state  from  the  Tower 
to  her  coronation  at  Westminster.  The  usages  and  sentiments 
of  that  age  conferred  upon  these  public  ceremonials  a  character 
of  earnest  and  dignified  importance  now  lost ;  and  on  this  me- 
morable occasion,  when  the  mingled  sense  of  deliverance  re- 
ceived and  of  future  favour  to  be  conciliated  had  opened  the 
hearts  of  all  men,  it  was  resolved  to  lavish  in  honour  of  the  new 
sovereign  every  possible  demonstration  of  loyal  affection,  and 
every  known  device  of  festal  magnificence. 

The  costume  of  the  age  was  splendid.  Gowns  of  velvet  or 
satin,  richly  trimmed  with  silk,  furs,  or  gold  lace,  costly  gold 
chains,  and  caps  or  hoods  of  rich  materials  adorned  with  feathers 
©r  ouches,  decorated  on  all  occasions  of  display  the  persons  not 
of  nobles  or  courtiers  alone,  but  of  their  crowds  of  retainers  and 
higher  menials,  and  even  of  the  plain  substantial  citizens.  Fe- 
male attire  was  proportionally  sumptuous.  Hangings  of  cloth, 
of  silk,  of  velvet,  cloth  of  gold  or  silver,  or  "needlework  sub- 
lime," clothed  on  days  of  family-festivity  the  upper  chamber  * 
of  every  house  of  respectable  appearance;  these  on  public  festi- 
vals were  suspended  from  the  balconies,  and  uniting  with  the 
banners  and  pennons  floating  overhead,  gave  to  the  streets  al- 
most the  appearance  of  a  suit  of  long  and  gayly-dressed  saloons. 
Every  circumstance  thus  conspired  to  render  the  public  entry 
of  queen  Elizabeth  the  most  gorgeous  and  at  the  same  time  the 
most  interesting  spectacle  of  the  kind  ever  exhibited  in  the  Eng- 
lish metropolis. 

Her  majesty  was  first  to  be  conducted  from  her  palace  in 
Westminster  to  the  royal  apartments  in  the  Tower  ;  and  a  splen- 
did water  procession  was  appointed  for  the  purpose.  At  this 
period,  when  the  streets  were  narrow  and  ill -paved,  the  roads 
bad,  and  the  luxury  of  close  carriages  unknown,  the  Thames  was 
the  great  thoroughfare  of  the  metropolis.  The  old  palace  of 
Westminster,  as  well  as  those  of  Richmond  and  Greenwich,  the 
favourite  summer  residences  of  the  Tudor  princes,  stood  on  its 
banks,  and  the  court  passed  from  one  to  the  other  in  barges. 
The  nobility  were  beginning  to  occupy  with  their  mansions  and 
gardens  the  space  between  the  Strand  and  the  water,  and  it  had 
become  a  reigning  folly  amongst  them  to  vie  with  each  other  in 
the  splendour  of  their  barges  and  of  the  liveries  of  the  rowers, 
who  were  all  distinguished  by  the  crests  or  badges  of  their 
lords. 

The  corporation  and  trading  companies  of  London  possessed, 
as  now,  their  state-barges  enriched  with  carved  and  gilded  figures 
and  "  decked  and  trimmed  with  targets  and  banners  of  their 

misteries." 

On  the  12th  of  January  1559,  these  were  all  drawn  forth  in 

*  As  long  as  that  style  of  domestic  architecture  prevailed  in  which  every  story 
■was  made  to  project  considerably  beyond  the  one  beneath  it,  the  upper  room,  from  • 
its  superior  size,  and  lightsomeness,  appears  to  have  been  that  dedicated  to  the  enter- 
tainment of  guests. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


129 


grand  array ;  and  to  enliven  the  pomp,  "  the  bachelor's  barge  of 
the  lord-mayor's  company,  to  wit  the  mercers,  had  their  barge 
with  a  foist  trimmed  with  three  tops  and  artillery  a  board,  gal- 
lantly appointed  to  wait  upon  them,  shooting  off  lustily  as  they 
went,  with  great  and  pleasant  melody  of  instruments,  which 
played  in  most  sweet  and  heavenly  manner."  In  this  state  they 
rowed  up  to  Westminster  and  attended  her  majesty  with  the 
royal  barges  back  to  the  Tower. 

Her  passage  through  the  city  took  place  two  days  after. 

She  issued  forth  drawn  in  a  sumptuous  chariot,  preceded  by 
trumpeters  and  heralds  in  their  coat-armour  and  "most  honour- 
ablv  accompanied  as  well  with  gentlemen,  barons,  and  other  the 
nobility  of  this  realm,  as  also  with  a  notable  train  of  goodly  and 
beautiful  ladies,  richly  appointed."  The  ladies  were  on  horse- 
back, and  both  they  and  the  lords  were  habited  in  crimson  vel- 
Tet,  with  which  their  horses  were  also  trapped.  Let  it  be  re- 
marked by  the  way,  that  the  retinue  of  fair  equestrians  constant- 
ly attendant  on  the  person  of  tjhe  maiden  queen  in  all  her  public 
appearances,  was  a  circumstance  of  prodigious  effect ;  the  gor- 
geousness  of  royal  pomp  was  thus  heightened,  and  at  the  same 
rendered  more  amiable  and  attractive  by  the  alliance  of  grace 
and  beauty :  and  a  romantic  kind  of  charm,  comparable  to  that 
which  seizes  the  imagination  in  the  splendid  fictions  of  chivalry, 
was  cast  over  the  heartless  parade  of  courtly  ceremonial. 

It  was  a  very  different  spirit,  however,  from  that  of  romance 
or  of  knight-errantry  which  inspired  the  bosoms  of  the  citizens 
whose  acclamations  now  rent  the  air  on  her  approach.  They 
beheld  in  the  princess  whom  they  welcomed,  the  daughter  of  that 
Henry  who  had  redeemed  the  land  from  papal  tyranny  and  ex- 
tortion ;  the  sister  of  that  young  and  godly  Edward, — the  Josiah 
of  English  story, — whose  pious  hand  had  reared  again  the  altars 
of  pure  and  primitive  religion  ;  and  they  had  bodied  forth  for 
her  instruction  and  admonition,  in  a  series  of  solemn  pageants, 
the  maxims  by  which  they  hoped  to  see  her  equal  or  surpass 
these  deep-felt  merits  of  her  predecessors. 

These  pageants  were  erections  placed  across  the  principal 
streets  in  the  manner  of  triumphal  arches  :  illustrative  sentences 
in  English  and  Latin  were  inscribed  upon  them  ;  and  a  child  was 
stationed  in  each,  who  explained  to  the  queen  in  English  verse 
the  meaning  of  the  whole.  The  first  was  of  three  stories,  and 
represented  by  living  figures :  first,  Henry  VII.  and  his  royal 
spouse  Elizabeth  of  York,  from  whom  her  majesty  derived  her 
name  ;  secondly,  Henry  VIII.  and  Anne  Boleyn  ;  and  lastly,  her 
majesty  in  person  ;  all  in  royal  robes.  The  verses  described 
the  felicity  of  that  union  of  the  houses  to  which  she  owed  her 
existence,  and  of  concord  in  general.  The  second  pageant  was 
styled  "  The  seat  of  worthy  governance,"  on  the  summit  of 
which  sat  another  representative  of  the  queen  ;  beneath  were 
the  cardinal  virtues  trampling  under  their  feet  the  opposite 
vices,  among  whom  Ignorance  and  Superstition  were  not  forgot- 
ten.   The  third  exhibited  the  eight  Beatitudes,  all  ascribed  with 


130 


THE  COURT  OF 


some  ingenuity  of  application  to  her  majesty.  The  fourth  ven- 
tured upon  a  more  trying  topic  :  its  opposite  sides  represented 
in  lively  contrast  the  images  of  a  decayed  and  of  a  flourishing 
commonwealth  ;  and  from  a  cave  below  issued  Time  leading 
forth  his  daughter  Truth,  who  held  in  her  hand  an  English  bible, 
which  she  offered  to  the  queen's  acceptance.  Elizabeth  re- 
ceived the  volume,  and  reverently  pressing  it  with  both  hands 
to  her  heart  and  to  her  lips,  declared  aloud,  amid  the  tears  and 
grateful  benedictions  of  her  people,  that  she  thanked  the  city 
more  for  that  gift  than  for  all  the  cost  they  had  bestowed  upon 
her,  and  ,that  she  would  often  read  over  that  book.  The  lasi 
pageant  exhibited  "  a  seemly  and  mete  personage,  richly  appa- 
relled in  parliament  robes,  with  a  sceptre  in  her  hand,  over  whose 
head  was  written  '  Deborah,  the  judge  and  restorer  of  the  house 
of  Israel." 

To  render  more  palatable  these  grave  moralities,  the  recorder 
of  London,  approaching  her  majesty's  chariot  near  the  further 
end  of  Cheapside,  where  ended-*  the  long  array  of  the  city  com- 
panies, which  had  lined  the  streets  all  the  way  from  Fenchurch, 
presented  her  with  a  splendid  and  ample  purse,  containing  one 
thousand  marks  in  gold.  The  queen  graciously  received  it  with 
both  hands,  and  answered  his  harangue  "  marvellous  pithily." 

To  crown  the  whole,  those  two  grisly  personages  vulgarly 
called  Gog  and  Magog,  but  described  by  the  learned  as  Gog- 
magog  the  Albion  and  Corineus  the  Briton,  deserted  on  this 
memorable  day  that  accustomed  station  in  Guildhall  where  they 
appear  as  the  tutelary  genii  of  the  city,  and  were  seen  rearing 
up  their  stately  height  on  each  side  of  Temple-bar.  With  joined 
hands  they  supported  above  the  gate  a  copy  of  Latin  verses,  in 
which  they  obligingly  expounded  to  her  majesty  the  sense  of  all 
the  pageants  which  had  been  offered  to  her  view,  concluding 
with  compliments  and  felicitations  suitable  to  the  happy  occa- 
sion. The  queen,  in  few  but  cordial  words,  thanked  the  citizens 
for  all  their  cost  and  pains,  assured  them  that  she  would  "  stand 
their  good  queen,"  and  passed  the  gate  amid  a  thunder  of  ap- 
plause. 

Elizabeth  possessed  in  a  higher  degree  than  any  English 
prince  who  ever  reigned,  the  innocent  and  honest  arts  of  popu- 
larity; and  the  following  traits  of  her  behaviour  on  this  day  are 
recorded  by  our  chroniclers  with  affectionate  delight.  "'Yon 
der  is  an  ancient  citizen,'  said  one  of  the  knights  attending  on 
her  person,  '  which  weepeth  and  turneth  his  face  backward  : 
How  may  it  be  interpreted  ?  that  he  doth  so  for  sorrow  or  for 
gladness  ?'  With  a  just  and  pleasing  confidence,  the  queen  re- 
plied, '  I  warrant  you  it  is  for  gladness.,  "  "  How  many  nose- 
gays did  her  grace  receive  at  poor  women's  hands  !  How  many 
times  staid  she  her  chariot  when  she  saw  any  simple  body  offer 
to  speak  to  her  grace  !  A  branch  of  rosemary  given  her  grace 
with  a  supplication  by  a  poor  woman  about  Fleet-bridge  was  seeH 
in  her  chariot  till  her  grace  came  to  Westminster 


*  Holinshed's  Chronicles, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


131 


The  reader  may  here  be  reminded,  that  five -and -twenty  years 
before,  when  the  mother  of  this  queen  passed  through  London  to 
her  coronation,  the  pageants  exhibited  derived  their  personages 
and  allusions  chiefly  from  pagan  mythology  or  classical  fiction. 
Hut  all  was  now  changed  ;  the  earnestness  of  religious  contro- 
versy in  Edward's  time,  and  the  fury  of  persecution  since,  had 
put  to  flight  Apollo,  the  Muses,  and  the  Graces :  Learning,  in- 
deed, had  kept  her  station  and  her  honours,  but  she  had  lent  her 
lamp  to  other  studies,  and  whether  in  the  tongue  of  ancient 
Rome  or  modern  England,  Elizabeth  was  hailed  in  Christian 
strains,  and  as  the  sovereign  of  a  Christian  country.  A  people 
idled  with  earnest  zeal  in  the  best  of  causes,  implored  her  to  free 
them  once  again  from  popery  ;  to  overthrow  the  tyranny  of  error 
and  of  superstition ;  to  establish  gospel  truth  ;  and  to  accept  at 
their  hands,  as  the  standard  of  her  faith  and  the  rule  of  her  con- 
duct, that  holy  book  of  which  they  regarded  the  free  and  undis- 
turbed possession  as  their  brightest  privilege. 

How  tame,  how  puerile,  in  the  midst  of  sentiments  serious  and 
profound  as  these,  would  have  appeared  the  intrusion  of  classi- 
cal imagery,  however  graceful  in  itself  or  ingenious  in  its  appli- 
cation !  Frigid  must  have  been  the  spectator  who  could  even 
have  remarked  its  absence,  while  shouts  of  patriotic  ardour  and 
of  religious  joy  were  bursting  from  the  lips  of  the  whole  assem- 
bled population. 

The  august  ceremonies  of  the  coronation,  which  took  place  on 
the  following  day,  merit  no  particular  description  ;  regulated  in 
every  thing  by  ancient  custom,  they  afforded  little  scope  for  that 
display  of  popular  sentiment  which  had  given  so  intense  an  in- 
terest to  the  procession  of  the  day  before.  Great  perplexity  was 
occasioned  by  the  refusal  of  the  whole  bench  of  bishops  to  per- 
form the  coronation  service ;  but  at  length,  to  the  displeasure  of 
his  brethren,  Ogelthorp,  bishop  of  Carlisle,  suffered  himself  to  be 
gained  over,  and  the  rite  was  duly  celebrated.  This  refractori- 
ness of  the  episcopal  order  was  wisely  overlooked  for  the  pre- 
sent by  the  new  government ;  but  it  proceeded  no  doubt  from 
the  principle,  that  the  marriage  of  Henry  VIII.  with  Catherine 
of  Arragon,  having  been  declared  lawful  and  valid,  the  child  of 
Anne  Boleyn  must  be  regarded  as  illegitimate  and  incapable  of 
the  succession.  The  compliance  of  Ogelthorp  could  indeed  be 
censured  by  the  other  bishops  on  no  other  ground  than  their  dis- 
allowance of  the  title  of  the  sovereign  ;  in  the  office  itself,  as  he 
performed  it,  there  was  nothing  to  which  the  most  rigid  catholic 
could  object,  for  the  ancient  ritual  is  said  to  have  been  followed 
without  the  slightest  modification.  This  circumstance  has  been 
adduced,  among  others,  to  show  that  it  was  rather  by  the  politi- 
cal necessities  of  her  situation,  than  by  her  private  judgment  and 
conscience  in  religious  matters,  that  Elizabeth  was  impelled 
finally  to  abjure  the  Roman  catholic  system,  and  to  declare  her- 
self the  general  protectress  of  the  protestant  cause. 

Probably,  had  she  found  herself  free  to  follow  entirely  the  dic- 
tates of  her  own  inclinations,  she  would  have  established  in  the 


132 


THE  COURT  OF 


church  of  which  she  found  herself  the  head,  a  kind  of  middle 
scheme  like  that  devised  by  her  father,  for  whose  authority  she 
was  impressed  with  the  highest  veneration.  To  the  end  of  her 
days  she  could  never  be  reconciled  to  married  bishops  ;  indeed 
with  respect  to  the  clergy  generally,  a  sagacious  writer  of  her 
own  time  observes,  that  "  ceteris  paribus,  and  sometimes  impa- 
ribus  too,  she  preferred  the  single  man  before  the  married."* 

She  would  allow  no  one  "  to  speak  irreverently  of  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  altar;"  that  is,  to  enter  into  discussions  respecting 
the  real  presence ;  she  enjoined  the  like  respectful  silence  con- 
cerning the  intercession  of  saints  ;  and  we  learn  that  one  Patch, 
who  had  been  Wolsey's  fool,  and  had  contrived,  like  some  others, 
to  keep  in  favour  through  all  the  changes  of  four  successive 
reigns,  was  employed  by  sir  Francis  Knolles  to  break  down  a 
crucifix  which  she  still  retained  in  her  private  chapel  to  the  scan- 
dal of  all  good  protestants. 

A  remarkable  incident  soon  served  to  intimate  the  coolness 
and  caution  with  which  it  was  her  intention  to  proceed  in  re-es- 
tablishing the  maxims  of  the  reformers.  Lord  Bacon  thus  re- 
lates the  anecdote  :  "  Queen  Elizabeth  on  the  morrow  of  her  co- 
ronation, (it  being  the  custom  to  release  prisoners  at  the  inaugu- 
ration of  a  prince,)  went  to  the  chapel ;  and  in  the  great  cham- 
ber one  of  her  courtiers,  who  was  well  known  to  her,  either  out  of 
his  own  motion,  or  by  the  instigation  of  a  wiser  man,  presented 
her  with  a  petition,  and  before  a  great  number  of  courtiers  be- 
sought her  with  a  loud  voice  that  now  this  good  time  there  might 
be  four  or  five  more  principal  prisoners  released:  these  were  the 
four  evangelists,  and  the  apostle  St.  Paul,  who  had  been  long 
shut  up  in  an  unknown  tongue,  as  it  were  in  prison  ;  so  as  they 
could  not  converse  with  the  common  people.  The  queen  an- 
swered very  gravely,  that  it  was  best  first  to  inquire  of  them- 
selves whether  they  would  be  released  or  not."t 

It  was  nor!  long,  however,  ere  this  happy  deliverance  was  fully 
effected.  Before  her  coronation,  Elizabeth  had  taken  the  im- 
portant step  of  authorising  the  reading  of  the  liturgy  in  English  ; 
but  she  forbade  preaching  on  controverted  topics  generally,  and 
all  preaching  at  Paul's  Cross  in  particular,  till  the  completion  of 
that  revision  of  the  service  used  in  the  time  of  Edward  VI.  which 
she  had  intrusted  to  Parker,  archbishop-elect  of  Canterbury,  with 
several  of  her  wisest  counsellors.  It  was  the  zeal  of  the  minis- 
ters lately  returned  from  exile,  many  of  whom  had  imbibed  at 
Geneva  or  Zunch  ideas  of  a  primitive  simplicity  in  Christian 
worship  widely  remote  from  the  views  and  sentiments  of  the 
queen,  which  gave  occasion  to  this  prohibition.  The  learning, 
the  piety,  the  past  sufferings  of  the  men  gave  them  great  power 
over  the  minds  and  opinions  of  the  people,  who  ran  in  crowds  to 
listen  to  their  sermons ;  and  Elizabeth  began  already  to  appre- 
hend that  the  hierarchy  which  she  desired  to  establish,  would 
gtand  as  much  in  need  of  protection  from  the  disciples  of  Calvin 


*  Harrington's  "  Brief  View, 


j  Bacon's  (t  Apophthegms,'- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


133 


and  Zw  ingle  on  the  one  hand,  as  from  the  adherents  of  popery  on 
the  other. 

There  is  good  reason  to  believe,  that  a  royal  proclamation 
issued  some  time  after,  by  which  all  manner  of  plays  and  inter- 
ludes were  forbidden  to  be  represented  till  after  the  ensuing 
haliovvmass,  was  dictated  by  similar  reasons  of  state  with  the 
prohibition  of  popular  and  unlicensed  preaching. 

From  the  earliest  beginnings  of  the  reformation  under  Henry 
VIII.  the  stage  had  come  in  aid  of  the  pulpit ;  not,  according  to 
the  practice  of  its  purer  ages,  as  the  "  teacher  best  of  moral  wis- 
dom, with  delight  received,"  but  as  the  vehicle  of  religious  con- 
troversy, and  not  seldom  of  polemical  scurrility.  Several  times 
already  had  this  dangerous  novelty  attracted  the  jealous  eyes 
of  authority,  and  measures  had  in  vain  been  taken  for  its  sup- 
pression. 

In  1542  Henry  added  to  an  edict  for  the  destruction  of  Tyn 
dale's  English  bible,  with  all  the  controversial  works  on  both 
sides  of  which  it  had  been  the  fertile  parent,  an  injunction  that 
"the  kingdom  should  be  purged  and  cleansed  of  all  religious 
plays,  interludes,  rhymes,  ballads,  and  songs,  which  are  equally 
pestiferous  and  noisome  to  the  peace  of  the  church."  During 
the  reign  of  Edward,  when  the  papists  had  availed  themselves 
of  the  license  of  the  theatre  to  attack  Cranmer  and  the  protec- 
tor, a  similar  prohibition  was  issued  against  all  dramatic  per- 
formances, as  tending  to  the  growth  of  "  disquiet,  division,  tu- 
mults and  uproars."  Mary's  privy-council,  on  the  other  hand, 
found  it  necessary  to  address  a  remonstrance  to  the  president 
of  the  North,  respecting  certain  players,  servants  to  sir  Francis 
Lake,  who  had  gone  about  the  country  representing  pieces  in 
ridicule  of  the-  king  and  queen  and  the  formalities  of  the  mass ; 
and  the  design  of  the  proclamation  of  Elizabeth  was  rendered 
evident  by  a  solemn  enactment  of  heavy  penalties  against  such 
as  should  abuse  the  Common-prayer  in  any  interludes,  songs,  or 
rhymes.* 

*  Warton's  "History  of  English  Poetry,"  vol.  iii.  p.  202  seq. 


134 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  X. 

1559. 

Meeting  of  parliament — Prudent  counsel  of  sir  N.  Bacon. — Act 
declaratory  of  the  queen's  title. — Her  answer  to  an  address  pray- 
ing her  to  marry. — Philip  II  offers  her  his  hand. — Motives  of 
Iter  refusal. — Proposes  to  her  the  archduke  Charles. —  The  king 
of  Sweden  renews  his  addresses  by  the  duke  of  Finland. — 
Honourable  reception  of  the  duke. — Addresses  of  the  duke  of 
Holstein. — Tlie  duke  of  Norfolk,  lord  R.  Dudley,  the  marquis 
of  North  ampton,  the  earl  of  Rutland,  made  knights  of  th  e  gar- 
ter.— Notices  of  the  two  last. — Queen  visits  the  earl  of  Pem- 
broke.— His  life  and  character. — Arrival  and  entertainment  oj 
a  French  embassy. — Review  of  the  London  trained-bands. — Till 
in  Greenwich  park. — Band  of  gentlemen-pensioners. — Royal 
progress  to  Hartford,  Cobham  Hall,  Eltham  and  Nonsuch. — 
The  earl  oj  Arundel  entertains  her  at  the  latter  place. — Obse- 
quies for  the  king  of  France. — Heath  of  Frances  duchess  of 
Suffolk. — Sumptuary  law  respecting  apparel. — Fashions  of 
dress. — Law  against  ivitchcraft. 

IN  the  parliament  which  met  in  January  1559,  two  matters 
personally  interesting  to  the  queen  were  agitated ;  her  title  to 
the  crown,  and  her  marriage ;  and  both  were  disposed  of  in  a 
manner  calculated  to  afford  a  just  presage  of  the  maxims  by 
which  the  whole  tenor  of  her  future  life  and  reign  was  to  be 
guided.  By  the  eminently  prudent  and  judicious  counsels  of  sir 
Nicholas  Bacon  keeper  of  the  seals,  she  omitted  to  require  of 
parliament  the  repeal  of  those  acts  of  her  father's  reign  which 
had  declared  his  marriage  with  her  mother  null,  and  herself  ille- 
gitimate-; and  reposing  on  the  acknowledged  maxim  of  law,  that 
the  crown  once  worn  takes  away  all  defects  in  blood,  she  con- 
tented herself  with  an  act  declaratory  in  general  terms  of  her 
right  of  succession.  Thus  the  whole  perplexing  subject  of  her 
mother's  character  and  conduct  was  consigned  to  an  oblivion 
equally  safe  and  decent ;  and  the  memory  of  her  father,  which, 
in  spite  of  all  his  acts  of  violence  and  injustice,  was  popular  in 
the  nation  and  respected  by  herself,  was  saved  from  the  stigma 
which  the  vindication  of  Anne  Boleyn  must  have  impressed  in- 
delibly upon  it. 

On  the  other  topic  she  explained  herself  with  an  earnest  sin- 
cerity which  might  have  freed  her  from  all  further  importunity 
in  any  concern  less  interesting  to  the  wishes  of  her  people.  To 
a  deputation  from  the  house  of  commons  with  an  address,  "  the 
special  matter  whereof  was  to  move  her  grace  to  marriage,"  after 
a  gracious  reception,  she  delivered  an  answer  in  which  the  fol- 
lowing passages  are  remarkable. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  135 

"....From  my  years  of  understanding,  sith  I  first  had  const- 
deration  of  my  life,  to  be  bor  n  a  servitor  of  almighty  God,  1  hap- 
pily chose  this  kind  of  life,  in  the  which  I  yet  live ;  which  I  as- 
sure you  for  mine  own  part  hath  hitherto  best  contented  myself, 
and  I  trust  hath  been  most  acceptable  unto  God.  From  the 
which,  if  either  ambition  of  high  estate,  offered  to  me  in  marriage 
by  the  pleasure  and  appointment  of  my  prince,  whereof  I  have 
some  records  in  this  presence  (as  you  our  treasurer  well  know  ;) 
or  if  eschewing  the  danger  of  mine  enemies,  or  the  avoiding  of 
the  peril  of  jleath,  whose  messenger,  or  rather  a  continual  watch- 
man, the  prince's  indignation,  was  no  little  time  daily  before 
mine  eyes,  (by  whose  means  although  I  know,  or  justly  may 
suspect,  yet  I  will  not  now  utter,  or  if  the  whole  cause  were  in 
my  sister  herself,  I  will  not  now  burden  her  therewith,  because 
i  will  not  charge  the  dead  ;)  if  any  of  these,  I  say,  could  have 
drawn  or  dissuaded  me  from  this  kind  of  life,  I  had  not  now  re- 
mained in  this  estate  wherein  you  see  me ;  but  so  constant  have 
I  always  continued  in  this  determination,  although  my  youth 
and  words  may  seem  to  some  hardly  to  agree  together ;  yet  it  is 
most  true  that  at  this  day  I  stand  free  from  any  other  meaning 
lhat  either  I  have  had  in  times  past,  or  have  at  this  present." 

After  a  somewhat  haughty  assurance  that  she  takes  ihe  recom- 
mendation of  the  parliament  in  good  part,  because  it  contains 
no  limitation  of  place  or  person,  which  she  should  have  regarded 
as  great  presumption  in  them,  "  whose  duties  are  to  obey,"  and 
"  not  to  require  them  that  may  command;"  having  declared  that 
should  she  change  her  resolution,  she  will  choose  one  for  her 
husband  who  shall,  if  possible,  be  as  careful  for  the  realm  as  her- 
self, she  thus  concludes  :  "  And  in  the  end,  this  shall  be  for  me 
sufficient,  that  a  marble  stone  shall  declare,  that  a  queen,  having 
reigned  such  a  time,  lived  and  died  a  virgin." 

One  matrimonial  proposal  her  majesty  had  already  received, 
and  that  at  once  the  most  splendid  and  the  least  suitable  which 
Europe  could  afford.  Philip  of  Spain,  loth  to  relinquish  his  hold 
upon  England,  but  long  since  aware  of  the  impracticability  of 
establishing  any  claims  of  his  own  in  opposition  to  the  title  of 
Elizabeth,  now  sought  to  reign  by  her ;  and  to  the  formal  an- 
nouncement which  she  conveyed  to  him  of  the  death  of  his  late 
wife,  accompanied  with  expressions  of  her  anxiety  to  preserve 
his  friendship,  he  had  replied  by  an  offer  of  his  hand. 

The  objections  to  this  union  were  so  peculiarly  forcible  and 
so  obvious  to  every  eye,  that  it  appears  at  first  view  almost  in- 
credible that  the  proposal  should  have  been  made,  as  it  yet  un- 
doubtedly was,  seriously  and  with  strong  expectations  of  success. 
But  Philip,  himself  a  politician,  believed  Elizabeth  to  be  one 
also  ;  and  he  flattered  himself  that  he  should  be  able  to  point  out 
such  advantages  in  the  connexion  as  might  overbalance  in  her 
mind  any  scruples  of  patriotism,  of  feeling,  or  of  conscience. 
She  stood  alone,  the  last  of  her  father's  house,  unsupported  at 
home  by  the  authority  of  a  powerful  royal  family,  or  abroad  by 
great  alliances.    The  queen  of  Scots,  whom  few  of  the  subjects 


136 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  Elizabeth  denied  to  be  next  heir  to  the  crown,  and  whose 
claim  was  by  most  of  the  catholics  held  preferable  to  her  own, 
was  married  to  the  dauphin  of  France,  consequently  her  title 
whould  be  upheld  by  the  whole  force  of  that  country,  with  which, 
as  well  as  with  Scotland,  Elizabeth  at  her  accession  had  found 
the  nation  involved  in  an  unsuccessful  war.  The  loss  of  Calais, 
the  decay  of  trade,  the  failure  of  the  exchequer,  and  the  recent 
visitations  of  famine  and  pestilence,  had  infected  the  minds  of 
the  English  with  despondency,  and  paralysed  all  their  efforts. 

In  religion  they  were  confessedly  a  divided  peopje  ;  but  it  is 
probable  that  Philip,  misled  by  his  own  zeal  and  that  of  the  ca- 
tholic clergy,  confidently  anticipated  the  extirpation  of  heresy 
and  the  final  triumph  of  the  papal  system,  if  the  measures  of 
salutary  rigor  which  had  distinguished  the  reign  of  Mary  should 
be  persisted  in  by  her  successor  ;  and  that  he  actually  supposed 
the  majority  of  the  nation  to  be  at  this  time  sincerely  and  cor- 
dially catholic.  In  offering  therefore  his  hand  to  Elizabeth,  he 
seemed  to  lend  her  that  powerful  aid  against  her  foreign  foe  and 
rival  without  which  her  possession  of  the  throne  could  not  be 
secure,  and  that  support  against  domestic  faction  without  which 
it  could  not  be  tranquil.  He  readily  undertook  to  procure  from 
the  pope  t'le  necessary  dispensation  for  the  marriage,  which  he 
was  certain  would  be  granted  with  alacrity  ;  and  before  the  an- 
swer of  Elizabeth  could  reach  him,  he  had  actually  dispatched 
envoys  to  Rome  for  this  purpose. 

A  princess,  in  fact,  of  a  character  less  firm  and  less  sagacious 
than  Elizabeth,  might  have  found  in  these  seeming  benefits 
temptations  not  to  be  resisted ;  the  splendour  of  Philip's  rank 
and  power  would  have  dazzled  and  overawed,  the  difficulties  of 
her  own  situation  would  have  affrighted  her,  and  between  ambi- 
tion and  alarm  she  would  probably  have  thrown  herself  into  the 
arms,  and  abandoned  her  country  to  the  mercy,  of  a  gloomy,  cal- 
culating, relentless  tyrant. 

But  Elizabeth  was  neither  to  be  deceived  nor  intimidated. 
She  well  knew  how  odious  this  very  marriage  had  rendered  her 
unhappy  sister ;  she  understood  and  sympathised  in  the  religious 
sentiments  of  the  great  mass  of  her  subjects  ;  she  felt  too  all  the 
pride,  as  well  as  the  felicity,  of  independence  ;  and  looking 
around  with  a  cheerful  confidence  on  a  people  who  adored  her, 
she  formed  at  once  the  patriotic  resolution  to  wear  her  English 
diadem  by  the  suffrage  of  the  English  nation  alone,  unindebted 
to  the  protection  and  free  from  the  participation  of  any  brother- 
monarch  living,  even  of  him  who  held  the  highest  place  among 
the  potentates  of  Europe. 

Her  best  and  wisest  counsellors  applauded  her  decision,  but 
they  unanimously  advised  that  no  means  consistent  with  the 
rejection  of  his  suit  should  be  omitted,  by  which  the  friendship 
of  the  king  of  Spain  might  be  preserved  and  cultivated.  Expe- 
dients were  accordingly  found,  without  actually  encouraging  his 
hopes,  for  protracting  the  negotiation  till  a  peace  was  concluded 
with  France  and  with  Scotland,  and  finally  of  declining  the 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


137 


marriage  without  a  breach  of  amity.  Yet  the  duke  de  Feria, 
the  Spanish  ambassador,  had  not  failed  to  represent  to  the  queen, 
that  as  the  addresses  of  his  master  were  founded  on  personal 
acquaintance  and  high  admiration  of  her  charms  and  merit,  a 
negative  could  not  be  returned  without  wounding  equally  his 
pride  and  his  feelings.  Philip,  however,  soon  consoled  himself 
for  this  disappointment  by  taking  to  wife  the  daughter  of  the 
king  of  Fiance ;  and  before  the  end  of  the  year  we  find  him  re- 
<  ommending  to  Elizabeth  as  a  husband  his  cousin  the  archduke 
Charles,  son  of  the  emperor  Ferdinand.  The  overture  wras  at 
this  time  declined  by  the  queen  without  hesitation  ;  but  some 
time  afterwards,  circumstances  arose  which  caused  the  negotia- 
tion to  be  resumed  with  a  prospect  of  success,  and  the  preten- 
sions and  qualifications  of  the  Austrian  prince  became,  as  we 
«hall  see,  an  object  of  serious  discussion. 

Eric,  who  had  now  ascended  the  throne  of  Sweden,  sent  his 
brother  the  duke  of  Finland  to  plead  once  more  with  the  Eng- 
lish princess  in  his  behalf;  and  the  king  of  Denmark,  unwilling 
that  his  neighbour  should  bear  off*  without  a  contest  so  glorious 
a  prize,  lost  no  time  in  sending  forth  on  the  same  high  adventure 
his  nephew  the  duke  of  Holstein.  It  is  more  than  probable  that 
Shakespeare,  in  his  description  of  the  wooers  of  all  countries 
who  contend  for  the  possession  of  the  fair  and  wealthy  Portia,* 
satirically  alludes  to  several  of  these  royal  suitors,  whose  de- 
parture would  often  be  accounted  by  his  sovereign  "  a  gentle 
ridance,"  since  she  might  well  exclaim  with  the  Italian  heiress, 
"  while  we  shut  the  gate  on  one  wooer,  another  knocks  at  the 
door." 

The  duke  of  Finland  was  received  with  high  honours.  The 
earl  of  Oxford  and  lord  Robert  Dudley  repaired  to  him  at  Col- 
chester and  conducted  him  into  London.  At  the  corner  of. 
Gracechurch-street  he  was  received  by  the  marquis  of  North- 
ampton and  lord  Ambrose  Dudley,  attended  by  many  gentlemen, 
and,  what  seems  remarkable, by  ladies  also;  and  thence,  follow- 
ed by  a  great  troop  of  gentlemen  in  gold  chains  and  yeomen  of 
the  guard,  he  proceeded  to  the  bishop  of  Winchester's  palace  in 
Southward, "  which  was  hung  with  rich  cloth  of  arras,  and  wrought 
with  gold  and  silver  and  silks.    And  there  he  remained." 

Mil  the  last  circumstance  it  may  be  remarked,  that  it  appears 
at  this  time  to  have  been  the  invariable  custom  for  ambassadors, 
and  other  royal  visitants  to  be  lodged  at  some  private  house, 
where  they  were  entertained,  nominally  perhaps  at  the  expense 
of  the  sovereign,  but  really  to  the  great  cost  as  well  as  incon- 
venience of  the  selected  host.  The  practice  discovers  a  kind  of 
feudal  right  of  ownership  still  claimed  by  the  prince  in  the  man- 
sions of  his  barons,  some  of  which  indeed  were  royal  castles  or 
manor-houses  and  held  perhaps  under  peculiar  obligations  :  at 
the  same  time  it  gives  us  a  magnificent  idea  of  the  size  and  ac- 
commodation of  these  mansions  and  of  the  style  of  house-keep - 

*  See  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice.'' 


13S 


THE  COURT  OF 


ing  used  in  them.    It  further  intimates  that  an  habitual  distrust 

of  these  foreign  guests  caused  it  to  be  regarded  as  a  point  of  pru- 
dence to  place  them  under  the  secret  inspection  of  some  native 
of  approved  loyalty  and  discretion.  Prisoners  of  state,  as  well  as 
ambassadors  and  royal  strangers,  were  thus  committed  to  the 
private  custody  of  peers  or  bishops. 

The  duke  of  Holstein,  on  his  arrival,  was  lodged  at  Somerset 
Place,  of  which  the  queen  had  granted  the  use  to  lord  Hunsdon. 
He  came,  it  seems,  with  sanguine  expectations  of  success  in  his 
suit ;  but  the  royal  fair  one  deemed  it  sufficient  to  acknowledge 
his  pains  by  an  honourable  re  ception,  the  order  of  the  garter,  and 
the  grant  of  a  yearly  pension. 

Meantime,  the  queen  herself,  with  equal  assiduity  and  better 
success  than  awaited  these  princely  wooers,  was  applying  her 
cares  to  gain  the  affections  of  her  subjects  of  every  class,  and,  if 
possible,  of  both  religious  denominations. 

On  her  young  kinsman,  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the  first  peer  of 
the  realm  by  rank,  property,  and  great  alliances,  and  the  most 
popular  by  his  known  attachment  to  the  protestant  faith,  she  now 
conferred  the  distinction  of  the  garter,  decorating  with  it  at  the 
same  time  the  marquis  of  Northampton,  the  earl  of  Rutland,  and 
lord  Robert  Dudley. 

The  marquis,  a  brother  of  queen  Catharine  Parr,  whom  he  re- 
sembled in  the  turn  of  his  religious  opinions,  had  been  for  these 
opinions  a  great  sufferer  under  the  last  reign.  On  pretext  of  his 
adherence  to  the  cause  of  Jane  Grey,  in  which  he  had  certainly 
not  partaken  more  deeply  than  many  others  who  found  nothing 
but  favour  in  the  sight  of  Mary,  he  was  attainted  of  high  treason, 
and,  though  his  life  was  spared,  his  estates  were  forfeited  and  he 
had  remained  ever  since  in  disgrace  and  suspicion  A  divorce 
which  he  had  obtained  from  an  unfaithful  wife  under  the  eccle- 
siastical law  of  Henry  VIII.  was  also  called  in  question,  and  an 
after  marriage  which  he  had  contracted  declared  null,  but  it  ap- 
pears to  have  been  confirmed  under  Elizabeth.  He  was  account- 
ed a  modest  and  upright  character,  endowed  with  no  great  talents 
for  military  command,  in  which  he  had  been  unsuccessful,  nor 
yet  for  civil  business  ;  but  distinguished  by  a  fine  taste  in  music 
and  poetry,  which  formed  his  chief  delight.  From,  the  new  so- 
vereign substantial  benefits,  as  well  as  flattering  distinctions, 
awaited  him,  being  reinstated  by  her  in  the  possession  of  his  con- 
fiscated estates  and  appointed  a  privy-councillor. 

Henry,  second  earl  of  Rutland,  of  the  surname  of  Manners, 
was  the  representative  of  a  knightly  family  seated,  during  many 
generations,  at  Ettal,  in  Northumberland,  and  known  in  border 
history  amongst  the  stoutest  champions  on  the  English  side.  But 
Ettal,  a  place  of  strength,  was  more  than  once  laid  in  ruins,  and 
the  lands  devastated  and  rendered  "  nothing  worth,"  by  incur- 
sions of  the  Scots  ;  and  though  successive  kings  rewarded  the 
services  and  compensated  the  losses  of  these  valiant  knights,  by 
grants  of  land  and  appointments  to  honourable  offices  in  the 
north,  it  was  many  an  age  before  they  attained  to  such  a  degree 
of  wealth  as  would  enable  them  to  appear  with  distinction 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


139 


amongst  the  great  families  of  the  kingdom.  At  length,  sir  Robert 
Manners,  high  sheriff  of  Northumberland,  having  recommended 
himself  to  the  favour  of  the  king-making  Warwick,  and  of  Rich- 
ard, duke  of  Gloucester,  was  fortunate  enough,  by  a  judicious 
marriage  with  the  daughter  of  lord  Roos,  heiress  of  the  Tiptofts, 
earls  of  Worcester,  to  add  the  noble  castle  and  fertile  vale  of 
Belvoir  to  the  battered  towers  and  wasted  fields  of  his  paternal 
inheritance. 

A  second  splendid  alliance  completed  the  aggrandisement  of 
the  house  of  Manners.  The  son  of  sir  Robert,  bearing  in  right  of 
his  mother  the  title  of  lord  Roos,  and  knighted  by  the  earl  of 
Surry  for  his  distinguished  bravery  in  the  Scottish  wars,  was  ho- 
noured with  the  hand  of  Anne,  sole  heiress  of  sir  Thomas  St. 
Leger,  by  the  duchess-dowager  of  Exeter,  a  sister  of  king  Edward 
IV.  The  heir  of  this  marriage,  in  consideration  of  his  maternal 
ancestry,  was  advanced  by  Henry  VIII.  to  the  title  of  earl  of 
Rutland,  never  borne  but  by  princes  of  the  blood.  His  succes- 
sor, whom  the  queen  was  pleased  to  honour  on  this  occasion,  had 
suffered  a  short  imprisonment  in  the  cause  of  Jane  Grey,  but  was 
afterwards  intrusted  by  Mary  with  a  military  command.  Under 
Elizabeth  he  was  lord  lieutenant  of  the  counties  of  Nottingham 
and  Rutland,  and  one  of  the  commissioners  for  enforcing  the 
oath  of  supremacy  on  all  persons  in  offices  of  trust  or  profit  sus- 
pected of  adherence  to  the  old  religion.    He  died  in  1563. 

Of  lord  Robert  Dudley  it  is  only  necessary  here  to  observe, 
that  his  favour  with  the  queen  became  daily  more  apparent,  and 
began  to  give  fears  and  jealousies  to  her  best  friends  and  wisest 
counsellors. 

The  hearts  of  the.common  people,  as  this  wise  princess  well 
knew,  were  easily  and  cheaply  to  be  won  by  gratifying  their  eyes 
with  the  frequent  view  of  her  royal  person,  and  she  neglected  no 
opportunity  of  offering  herself,  all  smiles  and  affability,  to  their 
ready  acclamations. 

On  one  occasion  she  passed  publicly  through  the  city  to  visit 
the  mint  and  inspect  the  new  coinage,  which  she  had  the  great 
merit  of  restoring  to  its  just  standard  from  the  extremely  depre- 
ciated state  to  which  it  had  been  brought  by  the  successive  en- 
croachments of  her  immediate  predecessors.  Another  time  she  vi- 
sited the  dissolved  priory  of  St.Mary  Spittle  in  Bishopsgate-street, 
which  was  noted  for  its  pulpit-cross,  where,  on  set  days,  the  lord 
mayor  and  aldermen  attended  to  hear  sermons.  It  is  conjectured 
that  the  queen  went  thither  for  the  same  purpose;  but  if  this 
were  the  case,  her  equipage  was  somewhat  whimsical.  She  was 
attended,  as  Stow  informs  us,  by  a  thousand  men  in  harness,  with 
shirts  of  mail  and  corselets  and  morice-pikes,  and  ten  great 
pieces  carried  through  the  city  unto  the  court,  with  drums  and. 
trumpets  sounding,  and  two  morice  dancings,  and  in  a  cart  two 
white  bears. 

Having  supped  one  afternoon  with  the  earl  of  Pembroke  at 
Baynard's  castle,  in  Thames-street,  she  afterwards  took  boat  and 
was  rowed  upland  down  the  river,  "  hundreds  of  boats  and  barges 


140 


THE  COURT  OF 


rowing  about  her,  and  thousands  of  people  thronging  at  the  wa 
ter  side,  to  look  upon  her  majesty;  rejoicing  to  see  her,  and  par- 
taking of  the  music  and  sights  upon  the  Thames." 

This  peer  was  the  offspring  of  a  base-born  son  of  William  Her- 
bert, earl  of  Pembroke,  and  coming  early  to  court  to  push  his 
fortune,  became  an  esquire  of  the  body  to  Henry  VIII.  .Soon 
ingratiating  himself  with  this  monarch,  he  obtained  from  his  cus- 
tomary profusion  towards  his  favourites,  several  offices  in  Wales 
and  enormous  grants  of  abbey-lands  in  some  of  the  southern 
counties.  In  the  year  1554,  the  37th  of  his  age,  we  find  him  con- 
siderable enough  to  procure  the  king's  license  "to  retain  thirty 
persons  at  his  will  and  pleasure,  over  and  above  such  persons  as 
attended  on  him,  and  to  give  them  his  livery,  badges,  and  cogni- 
sance." The  king's  marriage  with  Catherine  Parr,  his  wife's 
sister,  increased  his  consequence,  and  Henry,  on  his  death-bed, 
appointed  him  one  of  his  executors,  and  a  member  of  the  young 
king's  council.  He  was  actively  useful,  in  the  beginning  of  Ed- 
ward's reign,  in  keeping  down  commotions  in  Wales  and  sup- 
pressing some  which  had  arisen  in  Wiltshire  and  Somersetshire. 
This  service  obtained  for  him  the  office  of  master  of  the  horse  ; 
and  that  more  important  service  which  he  afterwards  performed 
at  the  head  of  one  thousand  Welshmen,  with  whom  he  took  the 
field  against  the  Cornish  rebels,  was  rewarded  by  the  garter,  the 
presidency  of  the  council,  for  Wales,  and  a  valuable  wardship. 
He  figured  next  as  commander  of  part  of  the  forces  in  Picardy 
and  governor  of  Calais,  and  found  himself  strong  enough  to  claim 
of  the  feeble  protector  as  his  reward  the  titles  of  baron  Herbert 
and  earl  of  Pembroke,  become  extinct  by  the  failure  of  legitimate 
heirs.  As  soon  as  his  sagacity  prognosticated  the  fall  of  Somer- 
set, he  judiciously  attached  himself  to  theorising  fortunes  of 
Northumberland.  With  this  aspiring  leader  it  was  an  object  of 
prime  importance  to  purchase  the  support  of  a  nobleman  who 
now  appeared  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  retainers,  and  whose 
authority  in  Wales  and  the  southern  counties  was  equal,  or  su- 
perior, to  the  hereditary  influence  of  the  most  powerful  and  an- 
cient houses.  To  engage  him,  therefore,  the  more  firmly  in  his 
interest,  Northumberland  proposed  a  marriage  between  Pem- 
broke's son,  lord  Herbert,  and  lady  Catherine  Grey,  which  was 
solemnised  at  the  same  time  with  that  between  lord  Guildford 
Dudley  and  the  lady  Jane,  her  eldest  sister. 

But  no  ties  of  friendship  or  alliance  could  permanently  engage 
Pembroke  on  the  losing  side  ;  and  though  he  concurred  in  the 
first  measures  of  the  privy-council  in  behalf  of  the  lady  Jane's 
title,  it  was  he  who  devised  a  pretext  for  extricating  its  members 
from  the  Tower,  where  Northumberland  had  detained  them  in 
order  to  secure  their  fidelity,  and,  assembling  them  in  Baynard's 
castle,  procured  their  concurrence  in  the  proclamation  of  Mary. 
By  this  act  he  secured  the  favour  of  the  new  queen,  whom  he  fur- 
ther propitiated  by  compelling  his  son  to  repudiate  the  innocent 
and  ill-fated  lady  Catherine,  whose  birth  caused  her  to  be  re- 
garded at  court  with  jealous  eyes.    Mary  soon  confided  to  him 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH 


141 


the  charge  of  effectually  suppressing  Wyat's  rebellion,  and  af- 
terwards constituted  him  her  captain -general  beyond  the  seas, 
in  which  capacity  he  commanded  the  English  forces  at  the  battle 
of  St.  Quintin's.  Such  was  the  respect  entertained  for  his  ex- 
perience and  capacity,  that  Elizabeth  admitted  him  to  her  privy- 
council  immediately  after  her  accession,  and  as  a  still  higher 
mark  of  her  confidence  named  him, — with  .the  marquis  of  North- 
ampton, the  earl  of  Bedford,  and  lord  John  Grey,  leading  men  of 
the  protestant  party, — to  assist  at  the  meetings  of  divines  and 
men  of  learning  by  whom  the  religious  establishment  of  the  coun- 
try was  to  be  settled.  He  was  likewise  -appointed  a  commis- 
sioner for  administering  the  oath  of  supremacy.  In  short,  he 
retained  to  his  death,  which  occurred  in  1570,  in  the  63d  year  of 
his  age,  the  same  high  station  among  the  confidential  servants  of 
the  crown  which  he  had  held  unmoved  through  all  the  mutations 
of  the  eventful  period  of  his  public  life. 

Naunton,  in  his  "  Fragmenta  Regalia,"  speaking  of  Paulet, 
marquis  of  Winchester  and  lord-treasurer,  who,  he  says,  had 
then  served  four  princes  "in  as  various  and  changeable  season 
that  well  I  may  say,  neither  time  nor  age  hath  yielded  the  like 
precedent,"  thus  proceeds :  "  This  man  being  noted  to  grow 
high  in  her"  (queen  Elizabeth's)  "  favour,  as  his  place  and  ex 
perience  required,  was  questioned  by  an  intimate  friend  of  his, 
how  he  stood  up  for  thirty  years  together  amidst  the  changes 
and  reigns  of  so  many  chancellors  and  great  personages.  '  Why,' 
quoth  the  marquis,  '  ortus  sum  ex  salice,  non  ex  quercu,'  (By 
being  a  willow  and  not  an  oak).  And  truly  the  old  man  hath 
taught  them  all,  especially  William  earl  of  Pembroke,  for  they 
two  were  ever  of  the  king's  religion,  and  over-zealous  professors. 
Of  these  it  is  said,  that  'both  younger  brothers,  yet  of  noble 
houses,  they  spent  what  was  left  them  and  came  on  trust  to  the 
court ;  where,  upon  the  bare  stock  of  their  wits,  theyj^egan  to 
traffic  for  themselves,  and  prospered  so  well,  that  they  got,  spent, 
and  left,  more  than  any  subjects  from  the  Norman  conquest  to 
their  own  times:  whereunto  it  hath  been  prettily  replied,  that 
they  lived  in  a  time  of  dissolution. — Of  any  of  the  former  reign, 
it  is  said  that  these  two  lived  and  died  chiefly  in  the  queen's 
favour." 

Among  the  means  employed  by  Pembroke  for  preserving  the 
good  graces  of  the  new  queen,  the  obvious  one  of  paying  court  to 
her  prime  favourite,  Robert  Dudley,  was  not  neglected  ;  and  lord 
Herbert,  whose  first  marriage  had  been  contracted  in  compli- 
ance with  the  views  of  the  father,  now  formed  a  third  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  wishes  of  the  son  The  lady  to  whom  he  was  thus 
united  by  motives  in  which  inclination  had  probably  no  share  on 
either  side,  was  the  niece  of  Dudley  and  sister  of  sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney, one  of  the  most  accomplished  women  of  her  age,  celebrated 
during  her  life  by  the  wits  and  poets  whom  she  patronised,  and 
preserved  in  the  memory  of  posterity  by  an  epitaph  from  the  pen 
of  Ben  Jonson,  wrhich  w  ill  not  be  forgotten  whilst  English  poetry 
remains. 


142 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  arrival  of  ambassadors  of  high  rank  from  France,  on  oc- 
casion of  the  peace  recently  concluded  with  that  country,  afford- 
ed the  queen  an  opportunity  of  displaying  all  the  magnificence  of 
her  court ;  and  their  entertainment  has  furnished  for  the  curious 
inquirer  in  later  times  some  amusing  traits  of  the  half-barbarous 
manners  of  the  age.  The  duke  de  Montmorenci,  the  head  of  the 
embassy,  was  lodged  at  the  bishop  of  London's,  and  the  houses 
of  the  dean  and  canons  of  St.  Paul's  were  entirely  filled  with  his 
numerous  retinue.  The  gorgeousness  of  the  ambassador's  dress 
was  thought  remarkable  even  in  those  gorgeous  times.  The  day 
after  their  arrival  they  were  conducted  in  state  to  court,  where 
they  supped  with  the  queen,  and  afterwards  partook  of  a  "goodly 
banquet,"  with  all  manner  of  entertainment  till  midnight.  The 
next  day  her  majesty  gave  them  a  sumptuous  dinner,  followed 
by  a  baiting  of  bulls  and  bears.  "The  queen's  grace  herself" 
stood  with  them  in  a  gallery,  looking  on  the  pastime,  till  six 
o'clock,  when  they  returned  by  water  to  sup  with  the  bishop  their 
host.  On  the  following  day,  they  were  conducted  to  the  Paris 
Garden,  then  a  favourite  place  of  amusement  on  the  Surry  side 
of  the  Thames,  and  there  regaled  with  another  exhibition  of  bull 
and  bear  baiting.  Two  days  afterwards  they  departed,  "  taking 
their  barge  towards  Gravesend,"  highly  delighted,  it  is  to  be 
hoped,  with  the  elegant  taste  of  the  English  in  public  diversions, 
and  carrying  with  them  a  number  of  mastiffs,  given  them  to  hunt 
wolves  in  their  own  country. 

But  notwithstanding  all  outward  shows  of  amity  with  France, 
Elizabeth  had  great  cause  to  apprehend  that  the  pretensions  of 
the  queen  of  Scots  and  her  husband  the  dauphin,  who  had  openly 
assumed  the  royal  arms  of  England,  might  soon  reinvolve  her  in 
hostilities  with  that  country  and  with  Scotland ;  and  it  conse- 
quently became  a  point  of  policy  with  her  to  animate,  by  means 
of  military  spectacles,  graced  with  her  royal  presence  and  en- 
couragement, the  warlike  preparations  of  her  subjects.  She  was 
now  established  for  a  time  in  her  favourite  summer-palace  of 
Greenwich,  and  the  London  companies  were  ordered  to  make  a 
muster  of  their  men  at  arms  in  the  adjoining  park. 

The  employment  of  fire-arms  had  not  as  yet  consigned  to  dis- 
use either  the  defensive  armour  or  the  weapons  of  offence  of  the 
middle  ages  ;  and  the  military  arrays  of  that  time  amused  the 
eye  of  the  spectator  with  a  rich  variety  of  accoutrement  far  more 
picturesque  in  its  details,  and  probably  more  striking,  even  in  its 
general  effect,  than  that  magnificent  uniformity  which,  at  a  mo- 
dern review,  dazzles,  but  soon  satiates,  the  sight. 

Of  the  fourteen  hundred  men  whom  the  metropolis  sent  forth 
on  this  occasion,  eight  hundred,  armed  in  fine  corselets,  bore  the 
long  Moorish  pike  ;  two  hundred  were  halberdiers,  wearing  a 
different  kind  of  armour,  called  Almain  rivets;  and  the  gunners, 
or  musketeers,  were  equipped  in  shirts  of  mail,  with  morions  or 
steel  caps.  Her  majesty,  surrounded  by  a  splendid  court,  beheld 
all  their  evolutions  from  a  gallery  over  the  park  gate,  and  finally 


QUKEN  ELIZABETH. 


143 


dismissed  them,  confirmed  in  loyalty  and  valour  by  praises, 
thanks,  and  smiles  of  graciousness. 

A  few  days  afterwards  the  queen's  pensioners  were  appoint- 
ed "to  run  with  the  spear,"  and  this  chivalrous  exhibition  was 
ac  companied  with  such  circumstances  of  romantic  decoration  as 
peculiarly  delighted  the  fancy  of  Elizabeth.  She  caused  to  be 
erected  for  her  in  Greenwich  park  a  banqueting-house  "made 
with  fir  poles  and  decked  with  birch  branches  and  all  manner  of 
(lowers  both  of  the  field  and  the  garden,  as  roses,  julyflowers, 
lavender,  marygolds,  and  all  manner  of  strewing-herbs  and 
rushes."  Tents  were  also  set  up  for  her  household,  and  a  place 
was  prepared  for  the  tilters.  After  the  exercises  were  over,  the 
queen  gave  a  supper  in  the  banquetting-house,  succeeded  by  a 
masque,  and  that  by  a  splendid  banquet.  "  And  then  followed 
great  casting  of  fire  and  shooting  of  guns  till  midnight." 

This  band  of  gentlemen  pensioners,  the  boast  and  ornament 
of  the  court  of  Elizabeth,  was  probably  the  most  splendid  esta- 
blishment of  the  kind  in  Europe.  It  was  entirely  composed  of 
the  flower  of  the  nobility  and  gentry,  and  to  be  admitted  to 
serve  in  its  ranks  was.  during  the  whole  of  the  reign  regarded 
as  a  distinction  worthy  the  ambition  of  young  men  of  the  high- 
est families  and  most  brilliant  prospects.  Sir  John  Holies,  af- 
terwards earl  of  Clare,  was  accustomed  to  say,  that  while  he 
was  a  pensioner  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  did  not  know  a  worse 
man  in  the  whole  band  than  himself ;  yet  he  was  then  in  pos- 
session of  an  inheritance  of  four  thousand  a  year.  "  It  was  the 
constant  custom  of  that  queen,"  pursues  the  earl's  biographer, 
"to  call  out  of  all  the  counties  of  the  kingdom,  the  gentlemen 
of  the  greatest  hopes  and  the  best  fortunes  and  families,  and 
with  them  to  fill  the  more  honourable  rooms  of  her  household 
servants,  by  which  she  honoured  them,  obliged  their  kindred  and 
alliance,  and  fortified  herself."* 

On  this  point  of  policy  it  deserves  to  be  remarked,  that  how- 
ever it  might  strengthen  the  personal  influence  of  the  sovereign 
to  enroll  amongst  the  menial  servants  of  the  crown  gentlemen 
of  influence  and  property,  it  is  chiefly  perhaps  to  this  practice 
that  we  ought  to  impute  that  baseness  of  servility  which  infected, 
with  scarcely  one  honourable  exception,  the  public  characters  of 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth. 

On  July  17th  the  queen  set  out  on  the  first  of  those  royal  pro- 
gresses which  form  so  striking  a  feature  in  the  domestic  history 
of  her  reign.  In  them,  as  in  most  of  the  recreations  in  which 
she  at  any  time  indulged  herself,  Elizabeth  sought  to  unite  po- 
litical utilities  with  the  gratification  of  her  taste  for  magnificence, 
and  especially  for  admiration.  It  has  also  been  surmised,  that, 
she  was  not  inattentive  to  the  savings  occasioned  to  her  privy 
purse  by  maintaining  her  household  for  several  weeks  in  every 
year  at  the  expense  of  her  nobles,  or  of  the  towns  through  which 
she  passed;  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  more  than  one  dis- 


*  Coll ins's  "  Historical  Collections." 


144 


THE  COURT  OF 


graceful  instance  might  be  pointed  out,  of  a  great  man  obliged 
to  purchase  the  continuance  or  restoration  of  her  favour  by  soli- 
citing the  almost  ruinous  honour  of  a  royal  visit.  On  the  whole, 
however,  her  deportment  on  these  occasions  warrants  the  con- 
clusion, that  an  earnest  and  constant  desire  of  popularity  was 
her  principal  motive  for  persevering  to  the  latest  period  of  her 
life  to  encounter  the  fatigue  of  these  frequent  journeys,  and  of 
the  acts  of  public  representation  which  they  imposed  upon  her- 

"In  her  progress,"  says  an  acute  and  lively  delineator  of  her 
character,  "  she  was  most  easy  to  be  approached  ;  private  per- 
sons and  magistrates,  men  and  women,  country -people  and  chil- 
dren, came  joyfully  and  without  fear  to  wait  upon  her  and  see 
her.  Her  ears  were  then  open  to  the  complaints  of  the  afflicted 
and  of  those  that  had  been  any  way  injured.  She  would  not  suf 
fer  the  meanest  of  her  people  to  be  shut  out  from  the  places  where 
she  resided,  but  the  greatest  and  the  least  were  then  in  a  man 
ner  levelled.  She  took  with  her  own  hand,  and  read  with  the 
greatest  goodness,  the  petitions  of  the  meanest  rustics.  And 
she  would  frequently  assure  them  that  she  would  take  a  parti- 
cular care  of  their  affairs,  and  she  would, ever  be  as  good  as  her 
word.  She  was  never  seen  angry  with  the  most  unseasonable  or 
uncourtly  approach  ;  she  was  naver  offended  with  the  most  im 
pudent  or  importunate  petitioner.  Nor  was  there  any  thing  in 
the  whole  course  of  her  reign  that  more  won  the  hearts  of  the, 
people  than  this  her  wonderful  facility,  condescension,  and  the 
sweetness  and  pleasantness  with  which  she  entertained  all  that 
came  to  her."* 

The  first  stage  of  the  queen's  progress  was  to  Dartford  in  Kent  , 
where  Henry  VIII.,  whose  profusion  in  the  article  of  royal  resi- 
dences was  extreme,  had  fitted  up  a  dissolved  priory  as  a  palace 
for  himself  and  his  successors.  Elizabeth  kept  this  mansion  in 
her  own  hands  during  the  whole  of  her  reign,  and  once  more,  after 
an  interval  of  several  years,  is  recorded  to  have  passed  two  days 
under  its  roof.  James  I.  granted  it  to  the  earl  of  Salisbury  :  the 
lords  Darcy  were  afterwards  its  owner.  The  embattled  gate- 
house with  an  adjoining  wing,  all  that  remains  in  habitable  con- 
dition, are  at  the  present  time  occupied  as  a  farm  house  ;  while 
foundations  of  walls  running  along  the  neighbouring  fields  to  a 
considerable  distance,  alone  attest  the  magnitude,  and  leave  to 
'  be  imagined  the  splendour,  of  the  ancient  edifice.  Such  is  at 
this  day  the  common  fate  of  the  castles  of  our  ancient  barons, 
the  mansions  of  our  nobles  of  a  following  age,  and  the  palaces 
of  the  Plantagenets,  the  Tudors,  and  the  Stuarts  ! 

From  Dartford  she  proceeded  to  Cobham  Hall, — an  exception 
to  the  general  rule, — for  this  venerable  mansion  is  at  present  the 
noble  seat  of  the  earl  of  Darnley ;  and  though  the  centre  has 
been  rebuilt  in  a  more  modern  style,  the  wings  remain  untouch- 
ed, and  in  one  of  them  the  apartment  occupied  by  the  queen  on 
this  visit  is  still  pointed  out  to  the  stranger.    She  was  here 

*  Bohun's  "  Character  of  Queen  Elizabeth.5' 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


145 


sumptuously  entertained  by  William  lord  Cobham,  a  nobleman 
who  enjoyed  a  considerable  share  of  her  favour,  and  who,  after 
acquitting  himself  to  her  satisfaction  in  an  embassy  to  the  Low- 
Countries,  was  rewarded  with  the  garter  and  the  place  of  a  privy- 
councillor.  He  was  however  a  person  of  no  conspicuous  ability, 
and  his  wealth  and  his  loyalty  appear  to  have  been  his  principal 
titles  of  merit. 

Eltham  was  her  next  stage  ;  an  ancient  palace  frequently  com- 
memorated in  the  history  of  our  early  kings  as  the  scene  of  rude 
magnificence  and  boundless  hospitality.  In  1270  Henry  ill. 
kept  a  grand  Christmas  at  Ealdham  palace, — so  it  was  then 
called.  A  son  of  Edward  II.  was  named  John  of  Eltham,  from 
its  being  the  place  of  his  birth. 

Edward  III.  twice  held  his  parliament  in  its  capacious  hall. 
It  was  repaired  at  great  cost  by  Edward  IV.,  who  made  it  a  fre- 
quent place  of  residence :  but  Henry  VIII.  began  to  neglect  it 
for  Greenwich,  and  Elizabeth  was  the  last  sovereign  by  whom  it 
was  visited. 

Its  hall,  100  feet  in  length,  with  a  beautifully  carved  roof  re- 
sembling that  of  Westminster-hall  and  windows  adorned  with 
all  the  elegance  of  gothic  tracery,  is  still  in  being,  and  admira- 
bly serves  the  purposes  of  a  barn  and  granary. 

Elizabeth  soon  quitted  this  seat  of  antique  grandeur  to  con- 
template the  gay  magnificence  of  Nonsuch,  regarded  as  the  tri- 
umph of  her  father's  taste  and  the  masterpiece  of  all  the  decora- 
tive arts.  This  stately  edifice,  of  which  not  a  vestige  now  re- 
mains, was  situated  near  Ewel  in  Surry,  and  commanded  from 
its  lofty  turrets  extensive  views  of  the  surrounding  country. 

It  was  built  round  two  courts,  an  outer  and  an  inner  one,  both 
very  spacious ;  and  the  entrance  to  each  was  by  a  square  gate- 
house highly  ornamented,  embattled,  and  having  turrets  at  the 
four  corners.  These  gatehouses  were  of  stone,  as  was  the  lower 
story  of  the  palace  itself ;  but  the  upper  one  was  of  wood,  "  richly 
adorned  and  set  forth  and  garnished  with  variety  of  statues, 
pictures,  and  other  antic  forms  of  excellent  art  and  workman- 
ship, and  of  no  small  cost :"  all  which  ornaments,  it  seems,  were 
made  of  rye  dough.  In  modern  language  the  "  pictures"  would 
probably  be  called  basso-relievos.  From  the  eastern  and  western 
angles  of  the  inner  court  rose  two  slender  turrets  five  stories 
high,  with  lanthorns  on  the  top,  which  were  leaded  and  surround- 
ed with  wooden  balustrades.  These  towers  of  observation,  from 
which  the  two  parks  attached  to  the  palace  and  a  wide  expanse 
of  champaign  country  beyond  might  be  surveyed  as  in  a  map, 
were  celebrated  as  the  peculiar  boast  of  Nonsuch. 

Henry  was  prevented  by  death  from  beholding  the  completion 
of  this  gaudy  structure,  and  queen  Mary  had  it  in  contemplation 
to  pull  it  down  to  save  further  charges  ;  but  the  earl  of  Arundel, 
"  for  the  love  and  honour  he  bare  to  his  old  master,"  purchased 
the  place,  and  finished  it  according  to  the  original  design.  It  was 
to  this  splendid  nobleman  that  the  visit  of  the  queen  was  paid. 
He  received  her  with  the  utmost  magnificence.    On  Sunday 


146 


THE  COURT  OF 


night  a  banquet,  a  mask,  and  a  concert  were  the  entertainments  ; 
the  next  day  she  witnessed  a  course  from  a  standing  made  for 
her  in  the  park,  and  "  the  children  of  Paul's"  performed  a  play  ; 
after  which  a  costly  banquet  was  served  up  in  gilt  dishes.  On 
her  majesty's  departure  her  noble  host  further  presented  her 
with  a  cupboard  of  plate.  The  earl  of  Arundel  was  wealthy, 
munificent,  and  one  of  the  finest  courtiers  of  his  day :  but  it 
must  not  be  imagined  that  even  by  him  such  extraordinary  cost 
and  pains  would  have  been  lavished  upon  his  illustrious  guest 
as  a  pure  and  simple  homage  of  that  sentimental  loyalty  which 
feels  its  utmost  efforts  overpaid  by  their  acceptance.  He  looked 
in  fact  to  a  high  and  splendid  recompense, — one  which  as  yet 
perhaps  he  dared  not  name,  but  which  the  sagacity  of  his  royal 
mistress  would,  as  he  flattered  himself,  be  neither  tardy  nor  re- 
luctant to  divine. 

The  death  of  Henry  II.  of  France,  which  occurred  during  the 
summer  of  this  year,  gave  occasion  to  a  splendid  ceremony  in  St. 
Paul's  cathedral,  which  was  rendered  remarkable  by  some  cir- 
cumstances connected  with  the  late  change  of  religion.  This  was 
the  performance  of  his  obsequies,  then  a  customary  tribute  among 
the  princes  of  Europe  to  the  memory  of  each  other ;  which  Eliza- 
beth therefore  would  by  no  means  omit,  though  the  custom  was  so 
intimately  connected  with  doctrines  and  practices  characteristic 
of  the  Romish  church,  that  it  was  difficult  to  divest  it,  in  the 
judgment  of  a  protestant  people,  of  the  character  of  a  supersti- 
tious observance.  A  hearse  magnificently  adorned  with  the  ban- 
ners and  scutcheous  of  the  deceased  was  placed  in  the  church; 
a  great  train  of  lords  and  gentlemen  attended  as  mourners  ;  and 
all  the  ceremonies  of  a  real  funeral  were  duly  performed,  not 
excepting  the  offering  at  the  altar  of  money,  originally  designed; 
without  doubt,  for  the  purchase  of  masses  for  the  dead.  The 
herald,  however,  was  ordered  to  substitute  other  words  in  place 
of  the  ancient  request  to  all  present  to  pray  for  the  soul  of  the 
departed ;  and  several  reformations  were  made  in  the  service, 
and  in  the  communion  with  which  this  stately  piece  of  pageantry 
concluded. 

In  the  month  of  December  was  interred  with  much  ceremony 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  Frances  duchess-dowager  of  Suffolk, 
grand -daughter  to  Henry  VII.  After  the  tragical  catastrophe 
of  her  misguised  husband  and  of  lady  Jane  Grey  her  eldest 
daughter,  the  duchess  was  suffered  to  remain  in  unmolested 
privacy,  and  she  had  since  rendered  herself  utterly  insignificant, 
not  to  say  contemptible,  by  an  obscure  marriage  with  one  Stoke, 
a  young  man  who  was  her  master  of  the  horse.  There  is  a  tra- 
dition, that  on  Elizabeth's  exclaiming  with  surprise  and  indig- 
nation when  the  news  of  this  connexion  reached  her  ears,  "  What, 
hath  she  married  her  horse  keeper  ?"  Cecil  replied,  "  Yes,  ma- 
dam, and  she  says  your  majesty  would  like  to  do  so  too  ;"  lord 
Robert  Dudley  then  filling  the  office  of  master  of  the  horse  to 
the  queen. 

The  impolicy  or  inutility  of  sumptuary  laws  was  not  in  this 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 


<*ge  acknowledged.  A  proclamation,  therefore,  was  issued  in 
October,  1559,  to  check  that  prevalent  excess  in  apparel  which 
was  felt  as  a  serious  evil  at  this  period,  when  the  manufactures 
of  England  were  in  so  rude  a  state  that  almost  every  article  for 
the  use  of  the  higher  classes  was  imported  from  Flanders,  France, 
or  Italy,  in  exchange  for  the  raw  commodities  of  the  country,  or 
perhaps  for  money. 

The  invectives  of  divines,  in  various  ages  of  the  Christian 
church,  have  placed  upon  lasting  record  some  transient  follies 
which  would  otherwise  have  sunk  into  oblivion,  and  the  sermons 
of  bishop  Pilkington,  a  warm  polemic  of  this  time,  may  be  quoted 
as  a  kind  of  commentary  on  the  proclamation.  He  reproves 
M  fine  fingered  rufflers,  with  their  sables  about  their  necks,  cork- 
ed slippers,  trimmed  buskins,  and  warm  mittons." — "  These  ten- 
der Parnels,"  he  says,  "  must  have  one  gown  for  the  day,  ano- 
ther for  the  night ;  one  long,  another  short ;  one  for  winter,  ano- 
ther for  summer.  One  furred  through,  another  but  faced  ;  one 
for  the  work-day,  another  for  the  holiday.  One  of  this  colour, 
another  of  that.  One  of  cloth,  another  of  silk  or  damask.  Change 
of  apparel ;  one  afore  dinner,  another  at  after  :  one  of  Spanish 
fashion,  another  of  Turkey.  And  to  be  brief,  never  content  with 
enough,  but  always  devising  new  fashions  and  strange.  Yea,  a 
ruffian  will  have  more  in  his  ruff  and  his  hose  than  he  should 
spend  in  a  year.  He  which  ought  to  go  in  a  russet  coat,  spends 
as  much  on  apparel  for  him  and  his  wife,  as  his  father  would  have 
kept  a  good  house  with." 

The  costly  furs  here  mentioned,  had  probably  become  fashion- 
able since  a  direct  intercourse  had  been  opened  in  the  last  reign 
with  Russia,  from  which  country  ambassadors  had  arrived,  whose 
barbaric  splendour  astonished  the  eyes  of  the  good  people  of 
London.  The  affectation  of  wearing  by  turns  the  costume  of  all 
the  nations  of  Europe,  with  which  the  queen  herself  was  not  a 
little  infected,  may  be  traced  partly  to  the  practice  of  importing 
articles  of  dress  from  those  nations,  and  that  of  employing  for- 
eign tailors  in  preference  to  native  ones,  and  partly  to  the  taste 
for  travelling,  which  since  the  revival  of  letters  had  become  lau- 
dably prevalent  among  the  young  nobility  and  gentry  of  Eng- 
land. That  more  in  proportion  was  expended  on  the  elegant 
luxuries  of  dress,  and  less  on  the  coarser  indulgences  of  the  ta- 
ble, ought  rather  to  have  been  considered  as  a  desirable  approach 
to  refinement  of  manners  than  a  legitimate  subject  of  censure. 

An  act  of  parliament  was  passed  in  this  year  subjecting  the 
use  of  enchantment  and  witchcraft  to  the  pains  of  felony.  The 
malcontent  catholics,  it  seems,  were  accused  of  employing  prac- 
tices of  this  nature  ;  their  predictions  of  her  majesty's  death  had 
given  uneasiness  to  government  by  encouraging  plots  against  her 
government;  and  it  was  feared,  ''by  many  good  and  sober  men," 
that  these  dealers  in  the  black  art  might  even  bewitch  the  queen 
herself.  That  it  was  the  learned  bishop  Jewel  who  had  led  the 
way  in  inspiring  these  superstitious  terrors,  to  which  religious 
animosities  lent  additional  violence,  may  fairly  be  inferred  from 


148 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  following  passage  of  a  discourse  which  was  delivered  by  him 
in  the  queen's  presence  the  year  before  .  .  .  .  "  Witches  and  sor- 
cerers within  these  last  few  years  are  marvellously  increased 
within  your  grace's  realm.  These  eyes  have  seen  most  evident 
and  manifest  marks  of  their  wickedness.  Your  grace's  subjects 
pine  away  even  unto  the  death ;  their  colour  fadeth,  their  flesh 
rotteth,  their  speech  is  benumbed,  their  senses  are  bereft. 
Wherefore  your  poor  subjects'  most  humble  petition  to  your 
highness  is,  that  the  laws  touching  such  malefactors  may  be  put 
in  due  execution.  For  the  shoal  of  them  is  great,  their  doing- 
horrible,  their  malice  intolerable,  the  examples  most  miserable. 
And  I  pray  God  they  never  practice  further  than  upon  the  sub- 
ject." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

1560. 

Successful  campaign  in  Scotland. — Embassy  of  viscount  Monta- 
cute  to  Spain — of  sir  T.  Chaloner  to  the  Emperor. — Account  of 
Chaloner. — Letter  of  his  respecting  Dudley  and  the  queen. — 
Dudley  loses  his  wife. — Mysterious  manner  of  her  death. — Sus- 
picion cast  upon  her  husband. — Dudley  and  several  other  cour- 
tiers aspire  to  the  hand  of  their  sovereign. — Tournaments  in  her 
honour. — Impresses.- — Sir  W.  Pickering. — Rivalry  of  Arundel 
and  Dudley. 

The  accession  of  Francis  II.,  husband  to  the  queen  of  Scots, 
to  the  French  throne  had  renewed  the  dangers  of  Elizabeth  from 
the  hostility  of  France  and  of  Scotland ;  and  in  the  politic  reso- 
lution of  removing  from  her  own  territory  to  that  of  her  enemies 
the  seat  of  a  war  which  she  saw  to  be  inevitable,  she  levied  a 
strong  army  and  sent  it  under  the  command  of  the  duke  of  Nor- 
folk and  lord  Grey  de  Wilton  to  the  frontiers  of  Scotland.  She 
also  entered  into  a  close  connection  with  the  protestant  party  in 
that  country,  who  were  already  inarms  against  the  queen -regent 
and  her  French  auxiliaries.  Success  attended  this  well-planned 
expedition,  and  at  the  end  of  a  single  campaign  Elizabeth  was 
able  to  terminate  the  war  by  the  treaty  of  Edinburgh ;  a  con- 
vention, the  terms  of  which  were  such  as  effectually  to  secure 
her  from  all  fear  of  future  molestation  in  this  quarter. 

During  the  period  of  these  hostilities,  however,  her  situation 
was  an  anxious  one.  It  was  greatly  to  be  feared  that  the  empe- 
ror and  the  king  of  Spain,  forgetting,  in  their  zeal  for  the  catho- 
lic church,  the  habitual  enmity  of  the  house  of  Austria  against 
that  of  Bourbon,  would  make  common  cause  with  France  against 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


J  49 


a  sovereign  who  now  stood  forth  the,  avowed  protectress  of  pro 
testantism  ;  and  suc  h  a  combination  of  the  great  powers  of  Eu- 
rope, seconded  by  a  largo  catholic  party  at  home,  England  was 
by  no  moans  in  a  condition  to  withstand.  By  skilful  negotiation 
it  seemed  possible  to  avert  these  evils  :  and  Elizabeth,  by  her 
selection  of  diplomatic  agents  on  this  important  occasion,  gave 
striking  evidence  of  her  superior  judgment. 

To  plead  her  cause  with  the  king  of  Spain,  she  dispatched 
Anthony  Browne  viscount  Montacute ;  a  nobleman  who,  to  the 
general  recommendation  of  wisdom  and  experience  in  public  af- 
fairs, added  the  peculiar  one,  for  this  service,  of  a  zealous  attach- 
ment to  the  Romish  faith,  proved  by  his  determined  opposition  in 
the  house  of  lords  to  the  bill  of  uniformity  lately  carried  by  a 
great  majority.  The  explanations  and  arguments  of  the  viscount 
prevailed  so  far  with  Philip,  that  he  ordered  his  ambassador  at 
Rome  to  oppose  the  endeavours  of  the  French  court  to  prevail 
on  the  pope  to  fulminate  his  ecclesiastical  censures  against  Eli- 
zabeth. It  was  found  impracticable,  however,  to  bring  him  to 
terms  of  cordial  amity  with  a  heretic  sovereign,  whose  principles 
he  both  detested  and  dreaded  ;  and  by  returning,  some  time 
after,  the  decorations  of  the  order  of  the  garter$he  distinctly  in- 
timated to  the  queen,  that  motives  of  policy  alone  restrained  him 
from  becoming  her  open  enemy. 

For  ambassador  to  the  emperor,  she  made  choice,  at  the  recom- 
mendation probably  of  Cecil,  of  his  relation  and  beloved  friend 
sir  Thomas  Chaloner  the  elder,  a  statesman,  a  soldier,  and  a  man 
of  letters  ;  and  in  these  three  characters,  so  rarely  united,  one 
of  the  distinguished  ornaments  of  his  age.  He  was  born  in  1515, 
of  a  good  family  in  Wales,  and,  being  early  sent  to  Cambridge, 
became  known  as  a  very  elegant  Latin  poet,  and  generally  as  a 
young  man  of  the  most  promising  talents.  After  a  short  resi- 
dence at  court,  his  merit  caused  him  to  be  selected  to  attend  into 
Germany  sir  Henry  Knevet,  the  English  ambassador,  with  a  view 
to  his  qualifying  himself  for  future  diplomatic  employment.  At 
the  court  of  Charles  V.  he  was  received  with  extraordinary  fa- 
vour ;  and  after  waiting  upon  that  monarch  in  several  of  his 
journeys,  he  was  at  length  induced,  by  admiration  of  his  cha- 
racter, to  accompany  him  as  a  volunteer  in  his  rash  expedition 
against  Algiers.  He  was  shipwrecked  in  the  storm  which  almost 
destroyed  the  fleet,  and  only  escaped  drowning  by  catching  in  his 
mouth,  as  he  was  struggling  with  the  waves,  a  cable,  by  which  he 
was  drawn  up  into  a  ship  with  the  loss  of  several  of  his  teeth. 

Returning  home,  he  was  made  clerk  of  the  council,  which  of- 
fice he  held  during  the  remainder  of  Henry's  reign.  Early  in 
the  next  he  was  distinguished  by  the  protector,  and,  having  sig- 
nalised his  valour  in  the  battle  of  Pinkey,  was  knighted  by  him 
on  the  field.  The  fall  of  his  patron  put  a  stop  to  his  advance- 
ment; but  he  solaced  himself  under  this  reverse  by  the  cultiva- 
tion of  literature,  and  of  friendship  with  such  men  as  Cook, 
Smith,  Cheke,  and  Cecil.  The  strictness  of  his  protestant  prin- 
ciples rendered  his  situation  under  the  reign  of  Mary,  both  disa- 


150 


THE  COURT  OF 


grecable  and  hazardous,  and  he  generously  added  to  its  perils 
by  his  strenuous  exertions  in  behalf  of  the  unfortunate  Cheke ; 
but  the  services  which  he  had  rendered  in  Edward's  time  to  many 
of  the  oppressed  catholics  now  interested  their  gratitude  in  his 
protection,  and  were  thus  the  means  of  preserving  him  unhurt 
for  better  times. 

Soon  after  his  return  from  his  embassy  to  the  emperor  Ferdi- 
nand, we  find  him  engaged  in  a  very  perplexing  and  disagreea- 
ble mission  to  the  unfriendly  court  of  Philip  II.,  where  the  mor- 
tifications which  he  encountered,  joined  to  the  insalubrity  of  the 
climate,  so  impaired  his  health  that  he  found  himself  obliged  to 
solicit  his  recal,  which  he  did  in  an  Ovidian  elegy  addressed  to 
the  queen.  The  petition  of  the  poet  was  granted,  but  too  late  ; 
he  sunk  under  a  lingering  malady  in  October,  1 565,  a  few  months 
after  his  return. 

The  poignant  grief  of  Cecil  for  his  loss  found  its  best  allevia- 
tion in  the  exemplary  performance  of  all  the  duties  of  surviving 
friendship.  He  officiated  as  chief  mourner  at  his  funeral,  and 
superintended,  with  solicitude  truly  paternal,  the  education  of 
his  son,  Thomas  Chaloner  the  younger,  afterwards  a  distinguish- 
ed character.  By  his  encouragement,  the  Latin  poems  of  his 
friend,  chiefly  consisting  of  epitaphs  and  panegyrics  on  his  most 
celebrated  contemporaries,  were  collected  and  published  ;  and  it 
was  under  his  patronage,  and  prefaced  by  a  Latin  poem  from  his 
pen,  in  praise  of  the  author,  that  a  new  and  complete  edition  ap  • 
peared  of  the  principal  work  of  this  accomplished  person ; — a 
tractate  "  on  the  right  ordering  of  the  English  republic,"  also 
in  Latin. 

Sir  Thomas  Chaloner  was  the  first  ambassador  named  by  Eli- 
zabeth ;  a  distinction  of  which  he  proved  himself  highly  deserv- 
ing. Wisdom  and  integrity  he  was  already  known  to  possess ; 
and  in  his  negotiations  with  the  imperial  court,  where  it  was  his 
business  to  draw  the  bonds  of  amity  as  close  as  should  be  found 
practicable  without  pledging  his  mistress  to  the  acceptance  of 
the  hand  of  the  archduke  Charles,  he  also  manifested  a  degree  of 
skill  and  dexterity  which  drew  forth  the  warmest  commendations 
from  Elizabeth  herself.  His  conduct,  she  said,  had  far  exceeded 
all  her  expectations  of  his  prudence  and  abilities. 

This  testimony  may  be  allowed  to  give  additional  weight  to 
his  opinion  on  a  point  of  great  delicacy  in  the  personal  conduct 
of  her  majesty,  as  well  as  on  some  more  general  questions  of  po- 
licy, expressed  in  a  postscript  to  one  of  his  official  letters  to  se- 
cretary Cecil.  The  letter,  it  should  be  observed,  was  written 
near  the  close  of  the  year  1559,  when  the  favour  of  the  queen  to 
Dudley  had  first  become  a  subject  of  general  remark,  and  before 
all  hopes  were  lost  of  her  finally  closing  with  the  proposals  of 
the  archduke. 

"I  assure  you,  sir,  these  folks  are  broad-mouthed  where  I 
spake  of  one  too  much  in  favour,  as  they  esteem.  I  think  ye 
guess  whom  they  named  ;  if  ye  do  not  I  will  upon  my  next  let- 
ters write  further.    To  tell  you  what  I  conceive ;  as  I  count  the 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


151 


slander  most  false,  so  a  young  princess  cannot  be  too  wary  what 
countenance  or  familiar  demonstration  she  maketh,  more  to  one 
than  another.  I  judge  no  man's  service  in  the  realm  worth  the 
entertainment  with  such  a  tale  of  obloquy,  or  occasion  of  speech 
to  such  men  as  of  evil  will  are  ready  to  find  faults.  This  delay 
of  ripe  time  for  marriage,  besides  the  loss  of  the  realm  (for  with- 
out posterity  of  her  highness  what  hope  is  left  unto  us  ?)  minis 
tereth  matter  to  these  leud  tongues  to  descant  upon,  and  breed 
elh  contempt.  1  would  I  had  but  one  hour's  talk  with  you. 
Think  if  i  trusted  not  your  good  nature,  I  would  not  write  thus 
much;  which  nevertheless  I  humbly  pray  you  to  reserve  as  writ- 
ten to  yourself, 

"  Consider  how  ye  deal  now  in  the  emperor's  matter:  much 
dependeth  on  it.  Here  they  hang  in  expectation  as  men  desirous 
it  should  go  forward,  but  yet  they  have  small  hope :  In  mine 
opinion  (be  it  said  to  you  only)  the  affinity  is  great  and  honour- 
able ;  The  amity  necessary  to  stop  and  cool  many  enterprises. 
Ve  need  not  fear  his  greatness  should  overrule  you  :  he  is  not  a 
Philip,  but  better  for  us  than  a  Philip.  Let  the  time  work  for 
Scotland  as  God  will,  for  sure  the  French,  I  believe,  shall  never 
long  enjoy  them  ;  and  when  we  be  stronger  and  more  ready,  we 
may  proceed  with  that,  that  is  yet  unripe.  The  time  itself  will 
work,  when  our  great  neighbours  fall  out  next.  In  the  mean 
time  settle  we  things  begun  ;  and  let  us  arm  and  fortify  our  fron- 
tiers." &c.*~ 

Sufficient  evidence  remains  that  the  sentiments  of  Cecil  re- 
specting the  queen's  behaviour  to  Dudley  coincided  with  those 
of  his  friend,  and  that  fears  for  her  reputation  gave  additional 
urgency  about  this  period  to  those  pleadings  in  favour  of  matri- 
mony which  her  council  were  doomed  to  press  upon  her  attention 
so  often  and  so  much  in  vain.  But  a  circumstance  occurred 
soon  after  which  totally  changed  the  nature  of  their  apprehen- 
sions respecting  her  future  conduct,  and  rendered  her  antici- 
pated choice  of  a  husband  no  longer  an  object  of  hope  and  joy, 
but  of  general  dissatisfaction  and  alarm. 

Just  when  the  whispered  scandal  of  the  court  had  apprised 
him  how  obvious  to  all  beholders  the  partiality  of  his  sovereign 
had  become, — just  when  her  rejection  of  the  proposals  of  so 
many  foreign  princes  had  confirmed  the  suspicion  that  her  heart 
had  given  itself  at  home, — just,  in  short,  when  every  thing  con- 
spired to  sanction  hopes  which  under  any  other  circumstances 
would  have  appeared  no  less  visionary  than  presumptuous, — at 
the  very  juncture  most  favourable  to  his  ambition,  but  most  pe- 
rilous to  his  reputation,  lord  Robert  Dudley  lost  his  wife,  and 
by  a  fate  equally  sudden  and  mysterious. 

This  unfortunate  lady  had  been  sent  by  her  husband,  under  the 
conduct  of  sir  Richard  Verney,  one  of  his  retainers, — but  for 
what  reason  or  under  what  pretext  does  not  appear, — to  Cumnor 
House  in  Berkshire,  a  solitary  mansion  inhabited  by  Anthony 

•  BurleighS  Papers,"  by  Havue?,  p.  212. 


152 


THE  COURT  OF 


Foster,  also  a  dependent  of  Dudley's  and  bound  to  him  by  par- 
ticular obligations.  Here  she  soon  after  met  with  her  death ; 
and  Verney  and  Foster,  who  appear  to  have  been  alone  in  the 
house  with  her,  gave  out  that  it  happened  by  an  accidental  fall 
down  stairs.  But  this  account,  from  various  causes,  gained  so 
little  credit  in  the  neighbourhood,  that  reports  of  the  most  sinis- 
ter import  were  quickly  propagated.  These  discourses  soon 
reached  the  ears  of  Thomas  Lever,  a  prebendary  of  Coventry 
and  a  very  conscientious  person,  who  immediately  addressed  to 
the  secretaries  of  state  an  earnest  letter,  still  extant,  beseeching 
them  to  cause  strict  enquiry  to  be  made  into  the  case,  as  it  was 
commonly  believed  that  the  lady  had  been  murdered :  but  he 
mentioned  no  particular  grounds  of  this  belief,  and  it  cannot 
now  be  ascertained  whether  any  steps  were  taken  in  consequence 
of  his  application.  If  there  were,  they  certainly  produced  no  sa- 
tisfactory explanation  of  the  circumstance  ;  for  not  only  the  po- 
pular voice,  which  was  ever  hostile  to  Dudley,  continued  to  ac- 
cuse him  as  the  contriver  of  her  fate,  but  Cecil  himself,  in  a  me- 
morandum drawn  up  some  years  after  of  reasons  against  the 
queen's  making  him  her  husband,  mentions  among  other  objec- 
tions, "  that  he  is  infamed  by  the  death  of  his  wife." 

Whether  the  thorough  investigation  of  this  matter  was  evaded 
by  the  artifices  of  Dudley,  or  whether  his  enemies,  finding  it  im- 
practicable to  bring  the  crime  home  to  him,  found  it  more  ad- 
visable voluntarily  to  drop  the  enquiry,  certain  it  is,  that  the 
queen  was  never  brought  in  any  manner  to  take  cognisance  of 
the  affair,  and  that  the  credit  of  Dudley  continued  as  high  with 
her  as  ever.  But  in  the  opinion  of  the  country,  the  favourite 
passed  ever  after  for  a  dark  designer,  capable  of  perpetrating 
any  secret  villainy  in  furtherance  of  his  designs,  and  skilful 
enough  to  conceal  his  atrocity  under  a  cloak  of  artifice  and  hy- 
pocrisy impervious  to  the  partial  eyes  of  his  royal  mistress, 
though  penetrated  by  all  the  world  besides.  This  idea  of  his  cha- 
racter caused  him  afterwards  to  be  accused  ol  practising  against 
the  lives  of  several  other  persons  who  were  observed  to  perish 
opportunely  for  his  purposes.  Each  of  these  charges  will  be  par- 
ticularly examined  in  its  proper  place  :  but  it  ought  here  to  be 
observed,  that  not  one  of  them  appears  to  be  supported  by  so 
many  circumstances  of  probability  as  the  first;  and  even  in  sup- 
port of  this,  no  direct  evidence  has  ever  been  adduced. 

Under  all  the  circumstances  of  his  situation,  Dudley  could  not 
venture  as  yet  openly  to  declare  himself  the  suitor  of  his  sove- 
reign ;  but  she  doubtless  knew  how  to  interpret  both  the  vehe- 
mence of  his  opposition  to  the  pretensions  of  the  archduke,  and 
the  equal  vehemence  with  which  those  pretensions  were  sup- 
ported by  an  opposite  party  in  her  council,  of  which  the  earl  of 
Sussex  was  the  head. 

Few  could  yet  be  persuaded  that  the  avowed  determination  of 
the  queen  in  favour  of  the  single  state  would  prove  unalterable : 
most  therefore  who  observed  her  averseness  to  a  foreign  connex- 
ion believed  that  she  was  secretly  meditating  to  honour  with  her 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


153 


'and  some  subject  of  her  own,  who  could  never  have  a  separate 
interest  from  that  of  his  country,  and  whose  gratitude  for  the 
*plendid  distinction  would  secure  to  her  the  possession  of  his 
lasting  attachment. 

This  idea  long  served  to  animate  the  assiduities  of  her  nobles 
and  courtiers,  and  two  or  three  besides  Dudley  were  bold^enough 
to  publish  their  pretensions.  Secret  hopes  or  wishes  were  che- 
rished in  the  bosoms  of  others  ;  and  it  thus  became  a  fashion  to 
accost  her  in  language  where  the  passionate  homage  of  the  lover 
mingled  with  the  base  adulation  of  the  menial.  Her  personal 
vanity,  triumphant  over  her  good  sense  and  her  perceptions  of 
l  egal  dignity,  forbade  her  to  discourage  a  style  of  address  equally 
disgraceful  to  those  who  employed  and  to  her  who  permitted  it; 
and  it  was  this  unfortunate  habit  of  receiving,  and  at  length  re- 
quiring, a  species  of  ilattery  which  became  every  year  more 
grossly  preposterous,  which  depraved  by  degrees  her  taste,  in- 
fected her  whole  disposition,  and  frequently  lent  to  the  wisest 
sovereign  of  Europe,  the  disgusting  affectation  of  a  heroine  of 
French  romance. 

Tilts  and  tournaments  were  still  the  favourite  amusements  of 
all  the  courts  of  Europe ;  and  it  was  in  these  splendid  exhibi- 
tions that  the  rival  courtiers  of  Elizabeth  found  the  happiest  oc- 
casions of  displaying  their  magnificence,  giving  proof  of  their 
courage  and  agility,  and  at  the  same  time  insinuating,  by  a  va- 
riety of  ingenious  devices,  their  hopes  and  fears,  their  amorous 
pains,  and  their  profound  devotedness  to  her  service. 

In  the  purer  ages  of  chivalry,  no  other  cognisances  on  shields 
were  adopted,  either  in  war  or  in  these  games  which  were  its 
image,  than  the  armorial  bearings  which  each  warrior  had  de- 
rived from  his  ancestors,  or  solemnly  received  at  the  hands  of 
the  heralds  before  he  entered  on  his  first  campaign.  But  as  the 
spirit  of  the  original  institution  declined,  and  the  French  fashion 
of  gallantry  began  to  be  engrafted  upon  it,  an  innovation  had 
taken  place  in  this  matter,  which  is  thus  commemorated  and 
deplored  by  the  worthy  Camden,  Clarencieux  king-at-arms,  who 
treats  the  subject  with  a  minuteness  and  solemnity  truly  pro- 
fessional. "  Whoever,"  says  he,  "  would  note  the  manners  of 
our  progenitors, — in  wearing  their  coat-armour  over  their  harness, 
and  bearing  their  arms  in  their  shields,  their  banners  and  pen- 
nons, and  in  what  formal  manner  they  were  made  bannerets,  and 
had  license  to  rear  their  banner  of  arms,  which  they  presented 
rolled  up,  unto  the  prince,  who  unfolded  and  re-delivered  it  with 
happy  wishes ;  I  doubt  not  but  he  will  judge  that  our  ancestors 
wei  ;  as  valiant  and  gallant  as  they  have  been  since  they  left  off 
their  arms  and  used  the  colors  and  curtains  of  their  mistress' 
bed  instead  of  them."  The  same  author  afterwards  observes,  that 
these  fopperies,  as  well  as  the  adoption  of  impresses,  first  pre- 
vailed in  the  expedition  of  Charles  VIII.  against  Maples  in  3 494, 
and  that  it  was  about  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII. 
that  the  English  wits  first  thought  of  imitating  the  French  and 
Italians  in  the  invention  of  these  devices. 

U 


154 


THE  COURT  OF 


An  impress,  it  seems,  was  an  emblematical  device  assumed 
at  the  will  of  the  bearer,  and  illustrated  by  a  suitable  motto; 
whereas  the  coat  of  arms  had  either  no  motto,  or  none  appro- 
priate. Of  this  nature  therefore  was  the  representation  of  an 
English  archer,  with  the  words,  "  Cui  adhsereo  prseest"  (He  pre- 
vails to  whom  I  adhere,)  used  by  Henry  VIII.,  at  his  meeting 
with  Charles  and  Francis. 

Elizabeth  delighted  in  these  whimsical  inventions.  Camden 
says,  that  she  "  used  upon  different  occasions  so  many  heroical 
devices  as  would  require  a  volume."  but  most  commonly  a  sieve 
without  a  word.  Her  favourite  mottos  were  "  Video  taceo"  (I 
see  and  am  silent,)  and  "  Semper  eadem"  (Always  the  same.) 
Thus  patronised,  the  use  of  impresses  became  general.  Scarcely 
a  public  character  of  that  age,  whether  statesman,  courtier,  scho- 
lar, or  soldier,  was  unprovided  with  some  distinction  of  this  na- 
ture ;  and  at  tournaments  in  particular,  the  combatants  all  vied 
with  each  other  in  the  invention  of  occasional  devices,  sometimes 
quaintly,  sometimes  elegantly,  expressive  of  their  situation  or 
sentiments,  and  for  the  most  part  conveying  some  allusion  at 
once  gallant  and  loyal. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  cite  a  few  of  the  most  remarkable  of 
these  out  of  a  considerable  number  preserved  by  Camden.  The 
prevalence  amongst  them  of  astronomical  emblems  is  worthy  of 
observation,  as  indicative  of  that  general  belief  of  the  age  in  the 
delusions  of  judicial  astrology,  which  rendered  its  terms  familiar 
aiike  to  the  learned,  the  great,  and  the  fair. 

A  dial  with  the  sun  setting,  "  Occasu  desines  esse"  (Thy  being 
ceases  with  its  setting.)  The  sun  shining  on  a  bush,  "  Si  dese- 
rts pereo"  (Forsake  me,  and  I  perish.)  The  sun  reflecting  his 
rays  from  the  bearer,  "  Quousque  avertes"  (How  long  wilt  thou 
avert  thy  face  ?)  Venus  in  a  cloud,  "  Salva  me,  Domina"  (Mis- 
tress, save  me.)  The  letter  I,  "  Omnia  ex  uno"  (All  things  from 
one.)  A  fallow  field,  "  Jit  quando  messis"  (When  will  be  the 
harvest  ?)  The  full  moon  in  heaven,  Quid  sine  te  ccelum"  (What 
is  heaven  without  thee  ?)  Cynthia,  it  should  be  observed,  was  a  fa- 
vourite fancy-name  of  the  queen's;  she  was  also  designated  occa- 
sionally by  that  of  Astrrea,  whence  the  following  devices.  A  man 
hovering  in  the  air,  "  Feror  ad  Astrseam"  (I  am  borne  to  Astrsea.) 
The  zodiac  with  Virgo  rising,  "Jam  redit  el  Virgo"  (The  Maid 
returns;)  and  a  zodiac  with  no  characters  but  those  of  Leo  and 
Virgo,  "His  ego  prsesidiis"  (With  these  to  friend.)  A  star, 
"  Mihi  vita  Spica  Virginis"  (My  life  is  in  Spica  Virginis) — a 
star  in  the  left  hand  of  Virgo  so  called  :  here  the  allusion  was 
probably  double ;  to  the  queen,  and  to  the  horoscope  of  the 
bearer.  The  twelve  houses  of  heaven  with  neither  sign  nor 
planet  therein,  "Dispone"  (Dispose.)  A  white  shield,  "  Fatum 
inscrihat  Eliza"  (Eliza  writes  my  fate.)  An  eye  in  a  heart, 
"  Vulnus  alo"  (I  feed  the  wound.)  A  ship  sinking  and  the  rain- 
bow appearing,  "  Quid  tu  si  pereo"  (To  what  avail  if  I  perish?) 
As  the  rainbow  is  an  emblem  seen  in  several  portraits  of  the 
queen,  this  device  probably  reproaches  some  tardy  and  ineft'ec- 


QUKKN  ELIZABETH. 


155 


ual  token  of  her  favour.  The  sun  shining  on  a  withered  tree 
wlii eh  blooms  again,  His  radiis  rediviva  viresco"  (These,  rays 
revive  me.)  A  pair  of  scales,  fire  in  one,  smoke  in  the  other, 
••  Ppnderare  errare*'  (To  weigh  is  to  err.) 

At  line  till  were  borne  all  the  following  devices  which  Camden 
particularly  recommends  to  the  notice  and  interpretation  of  the 
reader.  Many  flies  about  a  candle,  "  Sic  splendidiora petuntur," 
(Tins  brighter  things  ore  sought.)  Drops  falling  into  a  lire, 
"  Tamen  non  ex/inguenda.,>  (Yet  not  to  be  extinguished.)  The 
sun,  partly  clouded  over,  casting  its  rays  upon  a  star,  "  Tantum 
quantum"  (As  much  as  is  vouchsafed.)  A  folded  letter,  "  Lege 
it  relege,"*  (Read  and  re-reajd.) 

It  would  have  increased  our  interest  in  these  very  significant 
impresses,  if  our  author  could  have  informed  us  who  were  the  re- 
spective bearers.  Perhaps  conjecture  would  not  err  in  ascribing 
one  of  the  most  expressive  to  sir  William  Pickering,  a  gentleman 
whose  name  has  been  handed  down  to  posterity  as  an  avowed 
pretender  to  the  royal  marriage.  That  a  person,  illustrious  nei- 
ther by  rank  nor  ancestry,  and  so  little  known  to  fame  that  no 
other  mention  of  him  occurs  in  the  history  of  the  age,  should 
ever  have  been  named  amongst  the  suitors  of  his  sovereign,  is  a 
circumstance  which  must  excite  more  curiosity  than  the  scanty 
biographical  records  of  the  time  will  be  found  capable  of  satisfy- 
ing. A  single  paragraph  of  Camden's  Annals  seems  to  contain 
nearly  all  that  can  now  be  learned  of  a  man  once  so  remarkable. 

"  Nor  were  lovers  wanting  at  home,  who  deluded  themselves 
with  vain  hopes  of  obtaining  her  in  marriage.  Namely,  sir  Wil- 
liam Pickering,  a  man  of  good  family  though  little  wealth,  and 
who  had  obtained  reputation  by  the  cultivation  of  letters,  by  the 
elegance  of  his  manners,  and  by  his  embassies  to  France  and 
Germany,"  &c. 

Rapin  speaks  of  him  as  one  who  was  encouraged  to  hope  by 
some  distinguished  mark  of  the  queen's  favour,  which  he  does 
not  however  particularise.  Lloyd,  in  his  "  Worthies,"  ados  no- 
thing to  Camden's  information  but  the  epithet  "  comely"  applied 
to  his  person,  the  vague  statement  that  "  his  embassies  in  France 
and  Germany  were  so  well  managed,  that,  in  king  Edward's 
day's  he  was,  by  the  council,  pitched  upon  as  the  oracle  whereby 
our  agents  were  to  be  guided  abroad,"  and  a  hint  that  he  soon 
retired  from  the  court  of  Elizabeth  to  devote  himself  to  his  stu- 
dies. 

The  earl  of  Arundel  might  be  the  bearer  of  another  of  these 
devices.  We  have  already  seen  with  what  magnificence  of  ho- 
mage this  nobleman  had  endeavoured  to  bespeak  the  favourable 
sentiments  of  his  youthful  sovereign  ;  and  if  illustrious  ancestry, 
vast  possessions,  established  consequence  in  the  state,  and  long 
experience  in  public  affairs,  might  have  sufficed  to  recommend  a 
subject  to  her  choice,  none  could  have  advanced  fairer  preten- 
sions than  the  representative  of  the  ancient  house  of  Fitzalan. 


*  See  Camden's  "  Remains." 


156  THE  COURT  OF 

The  advanced  age  of  the  earl  was  indeed  an  objection  of  corisi 
derable  and  daily  increasing  weight ;  he  persevered,  however,  in 
his  suit,  notwithstanding  the  queen's  visible  preference  of  Dud- 
ley, and  every  other  circumstance  of  discouragement,  till  the 
year  1566.  Losing,  then,  all  hopes  of  success,  and  becoming  sen- 
sible at  length  of  pecuniary  difficulties  from  the  vast  expense 
which  he  had  lavished  on  this  splendid  courtship,  he  solicited 
the  permission  of  his  royal  mistress  to  retire  for  a  time  into 
Italy. 

While  it  lasted,  however,  the  rivalry  of  Arundel  and  Dudley, 
or  rather,  in  the  heraldic  phraseology  of  the  day,  that  of  the 
White  Horse  and  the  Bear,  divided  the  court,  inflamed  the  pas- 
sions of  the  numerous  retainers  of  the  respective  candidates,  and 
but  for  the  impartial  vigilance  of  Cecil  might  have  ended  in  deeds 
of  blood. 

In  the  Burleigh  papers  is  a  confession  of  one  Guntor,  a  servant 
or  retainer  of  the  earl  of  Arundel,  who  was  punished  for  certain 
rash  speeches  relative  to  this  competition,  from  which  we  learn 
some  curious  particulars.  He  says,  that  he  once  fell  in  talk  with 
a  gentleman  named  Cotton,  who  told  him  that  the  queen,  having 
supped  one  evening  at  lord  Robert  Dudley's,  it  was  dark  before 
she  could  get  away  ;  and  some  servants  of  the  house  were  sent 
with  torches  to  light  her  home.  That  by  the  way  her  highness 
was  pleased  to  enter  into  conversation  with  the  torch -bearers, 
and  was  reported  to  have  said,  that  she  would  make  their  lord 
the  best  that  ever  was  of  his  name.  As  the  father  of  lord  Robert 
was  a  duke,  this  promise  was  understood  to  imply  nothing  less 
than  her  design  of  marrying  him.  On  this,  Guntor  answered, 
that  he  prayed  all  men  might  take  it  well,  and  that  no  trouble 
might  arise  thereof ;  afterwards  he  said,  that  he  thought  if  a  par- 
liament were  held,  some  men  would  recommend  lord  Robert, 
and  some  his  own  master  to  the  queen  for  a  husband  ;  and  so  it 
might  fortune  there  would  rise  trouble  among  the  noblemen,  add- 
ing, "I  trust  the  White  Horse  will  be  in  quiet,  and  so  shall  we 
be  out  of  trouble ;  it  is  well  known  his  blood  as  yet  was  never 
attaint,  nor  was  he  ever  man  of  war,  wherefore  it  is  likely  that 
we  shall  sit  still ;  but  if  he  should  stomach  it,  he  were  able  to 
make  a  great  power."  In  his  zeal  for  the  cause  of  his  lord,  he 
also  wished  that  his  rival  had  been  put  to  death  with  his  father, 
"•  or  that  some  ruffian  would  have  dispatched  him  by  the  way  as 
he  hath  gone,  with  some  dag,  (pistol,)  or  gun." 

So  high  did  words  run  on  occasion  of  this  great  contest. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


157 


CHAPTER  XII. 

1560. 

#/i  the  conduct  of  Elizabeth  as  head  of  the  church. — Sketch  of  the 
history  of  the  reformation  in  England. — Notices  of  Parker, 
Grindal,  and  Jewel. 

There  was  no  part  of  the  regal  office,  the  exercise  of  which 
appeared  so  likely  to  expose  Elizabeth  to  invidious  reflections, 
as  that  which  comprehended  the  management  of  ecclesiastical 
affairs.  Few  divines,  though  protestant,  could  behold  without  a 
certain  feeling  of  mingled  jealousy  and  disdain,  a  female  placed 
at  the  head  of  the  religion  of  the  country;  and  by  the  whole  papal 
party  such  a  supremacy  was  regarded  perhaps  as  the  most  horri- 
ble, certainly  as  the  most  preposterous,  of  all  the  prodigies  which 
heresy  had  yet  brought  forth.  "  I  have  seen  the  head  of  the 
English  church  dancing  !"  exclaimed,  it  is  said,  with  a  sarcastic 
air,  an  ambassador  from  one  of  the  catholic  courts  in  Europe. 

A  more  striking  incongruity  indeed  could  scarcely  be  imagin 
ed,  than  between  the  winning  manners  and  sprightly  disposition 
of  this  youthful  princess,  as  they  displayed  themselves  amid  the 
festivities  of  her  court  and  the  homage  of  her  suitors,  and  the 
grave  and  awful  character  of  Governess  of  the  church,  with 
which  she  had  been  solemnly  invested. 

In  virtue  of  this  office,  it  was  the  right  and  duty  of  the  queen 
to  choose  a  religion  for  the  country  ;  to  ordain  its  rites  and  cere- 
monies, discipline,  and  form  of  church  government ;  and  to  fix 
the  rank,  offices,  and  emoluments  of  its  ministers.  She  was  also 
to  exercise  this  power  entirely  at  her  own  discretion,  free  from 
the  control  oY  parliament  or  the  interference  of  the  clerical  body, 
and  assisted  only  by  such  commissioners,  lay  or  ecclesiastical, 
as  it  should  please  herself  to  appoint. 

This  exorbitant  authority  was  first  assumed  by  her  arbitrary 
father  when  it  became  his  will  that  his  people  should  acknow- 
ledge no  other  pope  than  himself ;  and  the  servile  spirit  of  the 
age,  joined  to  the  ignorance  and  indifference  on  religious  sub 
jects  then  general,  had  caused  it  to  be  submitted  to  without  dif 
ficulty.  In  consequence,  the  title  of  Head  of  the  Church  had 
quietly  devolved  upon  Edward  VI.  as  part  of  his  regal  style  ; 
and  while  the  duties  of  the  office  were  exercised  by  Cranmer 
and  the  Protector,  the  nation,  now  generally  favourable  to  the 
cause  of  reform,  was  more  inclined  to  rejoice  in  its  existence  than 
to  dispute  the  authority  by  which  it  had  been  instituted.  Mary 
abhorred  the  title,  as  a  badge  of  heresy  and  a  guilty  usurpation 
on  the  rights  of  the  sovereign  pontiff,  and  in  the  beginning  of  her 
reign  she  laid  it  aside,  but  was  afterwards  prevailed  upon  to  re- 
sume it,  because  there  was  a  convenience  in  the  legal  sanction 


158 


THE  COURT  OF 


which  it  afforded  to  her  acts  of  tyranny  over  the  consciences  ot 
men.  e 

The  first  parliament  of  Elizabeth,  in  the  fervour  of  its  loyalty, 
decreed  to  her,  as  if  bv  acclamation,  all  the  honours  or  preroga- 
tives ever  enjoyed  by  her  predecessors,  and  it  was  solely  at  her 
own  request  that  the  appellation  of  Head,  was  now  exchanged 
for  the  less  assuming  one  of  Governess,  of  the  English  church. 
The  power  remained  the  same  ;  it  was,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the 
most  absolute  nature  possible  ;  since,  unlimited  by  law,  it  was 
also  owing  to  its  recent  establishment,  equally  uncontrolled  by 
custom.  It  remains  to  the  delineator  of  the  character  of  Eliza- 
beth to  inquire  in  what  manner  she  acquitted  herself,  to  her 
country  and  to  posterity,  of  the  awful  responsibility  imposed 
upon  her  by  its  possession. 

A  slight  sketch  of  the  circumstances  attending  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  reformation  into  England,  will  serve  to  illustrate  this 
important  branch  of  her  policy. 

On  comparing  the- march  of  this  mighty  revolution  in  our  own 
country  with  its  mode  of  progress  amongst  the  other  nations  of 
Europe,  one  of  the  first  remarks  which  suggests  itself  is,  that  in 
no  other  country  was  its  course  so  immediately  or  effectually 
subjected  to  the  guidance  and  control  of  the  civil  power. 

In  Switzerland,  the  system  ofZwingle,  the  earliest  of  the  re- 
formers, had  fully  established  itself  in  the  hearts  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  before  the  magistracies  of  Zurich  and  its  neighbouring 
republics  thought  proper  to  interfere.  They  then  gave  the  sanc- 
tion of  law  to  the  religion  which  had  become  that  of  the  majority, 
but  abstained  from  all  dictation  on  points  of  which  they  felt 
themselves  incompetent  judges. 

In  Germany,  the  impulse  originating  in  the  daring  mind  of 
Luther,  was  first  communicated  to  the  universities,  to  jtfre  lower 
orders  of  the  clergy,  and  through  them  to  the  people.  The 
princes  of  the  empire  afterwards  took  their  part  a>  patrons  or 
persecutors  of  the  new  opinions  ;  but  in  either  case  they  acted 
under  the  influence  of  ecclesiastics,  and  no  where  arrogated  to 
themselves  the  character  of  lawgivers  in  matters  of  faith. 

At  Geneva,  the  vigour  and  dexterity  of  Calvin's  measures 
brought  the  magistracy  under  a  complete  subjection  to  the 
church,  of  which  he  had  made  himself  the  head,  and  restricted 
its  agency  in  religious  concerns  to  the  execution  of  such  decrees 
as  the  spiritual  ruler  saw  good  to  promulgate. 

The  system  of  the  same  reformer  had  recently  been  introduc- 
ed into  Scotland  by  the  exertions  of  John  Knox,  a  disciple  who 
equalled  his  matter  m  the  fierceness  of  his  bigotry,  in  self-opi- 
nion,  and  in  the  love  of  power,  whilst  he  exceeded  him  in  tur- 
bulence of  temper  and  ferocity  of  manners :  and  here  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  church  on  the  state,  or  rather  its  paramount  le- 
gislative authority  in  all  matters  of  faith,  discipline,  and  worship, 
was  held  in  the  loftiest  terms.  The  opposition  which  this  doc-' 
trine,  so  formed  for  popularity,  experienced  from  the  govern- 
ment in  the  outset,  was  o*      om*  <w  j:>  - yarded,  sp  1  :i  was  in 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


159 


despite  of  the  utmost  efforts  of  regal  authority  that  the  new  reli- 
gion was  established  by  an  act  of  the  Scottish  parliament. 

[n  England,  on  the  contrary,  the  passions  of  Henry  VIII.  had 
prompted  him  to  disclaim  submission  to  the  papal  decrees  before 
the  spirit  of  the  people  demanded  such  a  step, — before  any  apos- 
tle of  reformation  had  arisen  in  the  land  capable  of  inspiring  the 
multitude  w  ith  that  zeal  which  makes  its  will  omnipotent,  and 
leaves  to  rulers  no  other  alternative  than  to  comply  or  fall, — yet 
not  before  the  attachment  of  men  to  the  ancient  religion  was  so 
far  w  eakened,  that  the  majority  could  witness  its  overthrow  with 
patience  if  not  with  complacency. 

To  have  timed  this  momentous  step  so  fortunately  for  the 
cause  of  prerogative,  might  in  some  princes  have  been  esteemed 
the  result  of  profound  combinations, — the  triumph  of  political 
sagacity ;  in  Henry  it  was  the  pure  effect  of  accident :  but  the 
advantages  which  he  derived  from  the  quiescent  state  of  the  pub- 
lic mind  w  ere  not  on  this  account  the  less  real  or  the  less  im- 
portant, nor  did.he  suffer  them  to  go  unimproved.  On  one  hand, 
no  considerable  opposition  was  made  to  his  assumption  of  the 
supremacy  ;  on  the  other,  the  spoil  of  the  monasteries  was  not 
intercepted  in  its  passage  to  the  royal  coffers  by  the  more  rapid 
movements  of  a  populace  intoxicated  with  fanatical  rage  or  fired 
with  hopes  of  plunder.  What  appeared  still  more  extraordinary, 
he  found  it  practicable,  to  the  end  of  his  reign,  to  keep  the  nation 
suspended,  as  to  doctrine  and  the  forms  of  worship,  in  that  nice 
equilibrium  between  protestant  and  papist  which  happened  best 
to  accord  with  his  individual  views  or  prejudices. 

Cranmer,  who  has  a  better  title  than  any  other  to  be  revered 
as  the  father  of  the  Anglican  church,  showed  himself  during  the 
life  of  Henry  the  most  cautious  and  Complaisant  of  reformers. 
Aware  that  any  rashness  or  precipitation  on  the  part  of  the  fa- 
vourers of  new  opinions  might  expose  them  to  all  the  fury  of  per- 
secution from  a  prince  so  dogmatical  and  violent,  he  constantly 
refrained  from  every  alarming  appeal  to  the  sense  of  the  people 
on  theological  questions,  and  was  content  to  proceed  in  his  great 
work  step  by  step,  with  a  slow,  uncertain,  and  interrupted  pro- 
gress, at  the  will  of  that  capricious  master  whose  vacillations  of 
humour  or  opinion  he  watched  with  the  patience,  and  improved 
with  the  skill,  of  a  finished  courtier. 

Administered  in  so  qualified  and  mitigated  a  form,  the  spirit 
of  reformation  exhibited  in  this  country  little  of  its  stronger  and 
more  turbulent  workings.  No  sect  at  that  time  arose  purely 
and  peculiarly  English :  our  native  divines  did  not  embrace  ex- 
clusively,, or  with  vehemence,  the  tenets  sf  any  one  of  the  great 
leaders  of  reform  on  the  continent,  and  a  kind  of  eclectic  system 
became  that  of  the  Anglican  church  from  its  earliest  institution. 

The  respective  contributions  to  this  system  of  the  most  cele- 
brated theologians  of  the  age  may  be  thus  stated.  It  was  chiefly 
from  Zwingle, — the  first,  in  point  of  time,  of  all  the  reformers  of 
ihe  sixteenth  century,  and  the  one  whose  doctrine  on  the  eucha- 
j.ist  and  on  several  other  points  diverged  most  widely  from  the 


160 


THE  COURT  OF 


tenets  of  the  church  of  Rome, — that  our  principal  opponents  of 
popery  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  derived  their  notions.  La- 
timer, Ridley,  Cranmer  himself,  were  essentially  his  disciples. 

By  others,  the  system  of  Luther  was  in  the  whole  or  in  part 
adopted.  But  this  reformer  was  personally  so  obnoxious  to 
Henry,  on  account  of  the  disrespectful  and  acrimonious  style 
of  his  answer  to  the  book  in  which  that  royal  polemic  had  for- 
merly attacked  his  doctrine,  that  no  English  subject  thought 
proper  openly  to  profess  himself  his  follower,  or  to  open  any  di  - 
rect communication  with  him.  Thus  the  confession  of  Augsburg, 
though  more  consonant  to  the  notions  of  the  English  monarch 
than  any  other  scheme  of  protestant  doctrine,  failed  to  obtain 
the  sanction  of  that  authority  which  might  have  rendered  it  pre- 
dominant in  this  country. 

A  long  and  vehement  controversy  on  the  subject  of  the  eucha- 
rist  had  been  maintained  between  the  German  and  Swiss  di- 
vines during  the  latter  years  of  Henry ;  but  at  the  period  of 
Edward's  accession,  when  Cranmer  first  undertook  the  form- 
ation of  a  national  church  according  to  his  own  ideas  of  gospel 
truth  and  political  expediency,  this  dispute  was  in  great  measure 
appeased,  and  sanguine  hopes  were  entertained  that  a  disagree- 
ment regarded  as  dangerous  in  a  high  degree  to  the  common 
cause  of  religious  reform  might  soon  be  entirely  reconciled. 

Luther,  the  last  survivor  of  the  original  disputants,  was  lately 
dead :  and  to  the  post  which  he  had  held  in  the  university  of  Wit- 
temberg,  as  well  as  to  the  station  of  head  of  the  protestant 
church,  Melancthon  had  succeeded.  This  truly  excellent  per- 
son, who  carried  into  all  theological  debates  a  spirit  of  concilia- 
tion equally  rare  and  admirable,  was  earnestly  labouring  at  a 
scheme  of  comprehension  His  laudable  endeavours  were  met 
by  the  zealous  co-operation  of  Calvin,  who  had  by  this  time  ex- 
tended his  influence  from  Geneva  over  most  of  the  Helvetic 
congregations,  and  was  diligent  in  persuading  them  to  recede 
from  the  unambiguous  plainness  of  Zwingle's  doctrine, — which 
reduced  the  Lord's  supper  to  a  simple  commemoration, — and  to 
admit  so  much  of  a  mystical  though  spiritual  presence  of  Christ 
in  that  rite,  as  might  bring  them  to  some  seeming  agreement  with 
the  less  rigid  of  the  followers  of  the  Lutheran  opinion.  At  the 
same  time  Bucer,  who  presided  over  the  flourishing  church  of 
Strasburg,  was  engaged  in  framing  yet  another  explication  of 
this  important  rite,  by  which  he  vainly  hoped  to  accommodate 
the  consciences  of  all  these  zealous  and  acute  polemics. 

Bucer  was  remarkable  among  the  thologians  of  his  time  by  a 
subtilty  in  distinction  resembling  that  of  the  schoolmen,  and  by 
a  peculiar  art  of  expressing  himself  on  doctrinal  points  in  terms 
so  nicely  balanced,  and  in  a  style  of  such  laboured  intricacy, 
that  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  discover  his  true  meaning,  or 
pronounce  to  which  extreme  of  opinion  he  most  inclined.  These 
dubious  qualifications,  by  which  he  disgusted  alternately  both 
Calvin  and  the  more  zealous  Lutherans,  were  however  accom- 
panied and  redeemed  by  great  learning  and  diligence ;  by  a  re- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


1G1 


markable  talent  for  public  business,  which  rendered  him  emi- 
nently useful  in  all  the  various  negotiations  with  temporal  au- 
thorities, of  with  each  other,  in  which  the  leaders  of  the  reforma- 
tion found  it  necessary  to  engage  ;  by  a  mild  and  candid  spirit, 
and  by  as  much  of  sincerity  and  probity  as  could  co-exist  with 
the  open  defence  of  pious  frauds. 

The  whole  character  of  the  man  appeared  to  Cranmer  admi- 
rably fitted  for  co-operation  in  the  work  which  he  had  in  hand. 
On  the  difficult  question  of  the  eucharist,  Bucer  would  preserve 
the  wariness  and  moderation  which  appeared  essential  in  the  di- 
vided state  ofprotestant  opinion  :  on  justification  and  good  works, 
he  held  a  middle  doctrine,  which  might  conciliate  the  catholics, 
and  was  capable  of  being  so  interpreted  as  not  greatly  to  offend 
the  moderate  Lutherans :  on  the  subject  of  church  government, 
he  had  not  yet  committed  himself,  and  there  was  little  doubt 
\  hat  he  would  cheerfully  submit  to  the  natural  predilection  of  the 
archbishop  for  prelacy.  His  erudition  and  his  morals  could  not 
fail  to  prove  serviceable  and  creditable  to  the  great  cause  of  na- 
tional instruction  and  reformed  religion.  Accordingly  an  invi- 
tation was  sent  to  him,  in  the  name  jof  the  young  king,  to  come 
and  occupy  the  theological  chair  in  the  university  of  Cambridge; 
and  in  the  year  1549  he  reached  England,  and  began  to  dis- 
charge with  much  assiduity  the  duties  of  his  office. 

The  name  and  influence  of  Bucer  became  very  considerable  in 
this  country,  though  his  career  was  terminated  by  death  within 
two  years  after  his  arrival.  A  public  funeral,  attended  by  all 
the  members  of  the  university  and  many  other  persons  of  emi- 
nence, attested  the  consideration  in  which  he  was  held  by  Ed- 
ward's ministers ;  the  subsequent  disinterment  of  his  remains  by 
order  of  cardinal  Pole,  for  the  purpose  of  committing  his  bones 
to  the  flames,  gave  further  evidence  of  his  mirits  in  the  protest- 
ant  cause  ;  and  in  the  composition  of  our  national  Articles,  it 
has  been  said  that  no  hand  has  left  more  distinguishable  traces  of 
itself  than  that  of  Bucer. 

From  Strasburg  also  the  university  of  Oxford  was  destined  to 
receive  a  professor  of  divinity  in  the  person  of  the  celebrated 
Peter  Martyr.  This  good  and  learned  man,  a  Florentine  by 
birth,  and  during  some  years  principal  of  a  college  of  Augustines 
at  Naples,  having  gradually  become  a  convert  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  reformers,  and  afterwards  proceeding  openly  to  preach  them, 
was  compelled  to  quit  his  country  in  order  to  avoid  persecution. 
Passing  into  Switzerland,  he  was  received  with  affectionate  hos- 
pitality by  the  disciples  of  Zwingle  at  Zurich  :  and  after  making 
some  abode  there  he  repaired  to  Basil,  whence  Bucer  caused 
him  to  be  invited  to  fill  the  station  of  theological  professor  at 
Strasburg.  He  was  also  appointed  the  colleague  of  this  divine 
in  the  ministry,  and  their  connection  had  subsisted  about  five 
years  in  perfect  harmony  when  the  offers  of  Cranmer  induced  the 
two  friends  to  remove  into  Fngiand. 

It  is  to  be  presumed  that  no  considerable  differences  of  opinion, 

X 


162 


THE  COURT  OF 


on  points  deemed  by  themselves  essential,  could  exist  between 
associates  so  united  ;  but  a  greater  simplicity  of  character  and  of 
views,  and  superior  boldness  in  the  enunciation  of  new  doctrines, 
strikingly  distinguished  the  proceedings  of  Peter  Martyr  from 
those  of  his  friend.  With  respect  to  church  government,  he, 
like  Bucer,  was  willing  to  conform  to  the  regulations  of  Cran- 
mer  and  the  English  council ;  but  he  preached  at  Oxford  on  the 
eucharist  with  so  Zwinglian  a  cast  of  sentiment,  that  the  popish 
party  raised  a  popular  commotion  against  him,  by  which  his  life 
was  endangered,  and  he  was  compelled  for  a  time  to  withdraw 
from  the  city.  Tranquillity  was  soon  however  restored  by  the 
interference  of  the  public  authority,  and  the  council  proceeded 
vigorously  in  obliterating  the  last  vestiges  of  Romish  supersti- 
tion. Ridley  throughout  his  own  diocese  now  caused  the  altars 
to  be  removed  from  the  churches,  and  communion-tables  to  be 
placed  in  their  room  ;  and,  as  if  by  way  of  comment  on  this  al- 
teration, Martyr  and  others  procured  a  public  recognition  of  the 
Genevan  as  a  sister  church,  and  the  admission  into  the  English 
service-book  of  the  articles  of  faith  drawn  up  by  Calvin. 

During  the  remainder  of  Edward's  reign,  the  tide  of  public 
opinion  continued  running  with  still  augmenting  velocity  to- 
wards Geneva.  Calvin  took  upon  him  openly  to  expostulate 
with  Bucer  on  the  preference  of  state,  expediency  to  Scripture 
truth,  betrayed,  as  he  asserted,  by  the  obstinate  adherence  of  this 
divine  to  certain  doctrines  and  observances  which  savoured  too 
much  of  popery  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  a  still  nearer  approach 
might  have  been  made  to  his  simpler  ritual,  but  for  the  untimely 
death  of  the  zealous  young  king,  and  the  total  ruin  of  the  new 
establishment  which  ensued. 

Just  before  the  persecutions  of  Mary  drove  into  exile  so  ma- 
ny of  the  most  zealous  and  conscientious  of  her  protestant  sub- 
jects, the  discord  between  the  Lutherans  and  those  whom  they 
styled  Sacramentarians  had  burst  out  afresh  in  Germany  with 
more  fury  than  ever.  The  incendiary  on  this  occasion  was 
Westphal,  superintendant  of  the  Lutheran  church  of  Hamburgh, 
who  published  a  violent  book  on  the  subject  of  the  eucharist ; 
and  through  the  influence  of  this  man,  and  of  the  outrageous  spi- 
rit of  intolerance  which  his  work  had  raised,  Latimer  and  Rid- 
ley were  stigmatised  by  fellow  protestants  as  "  the  devil's  mar- 
tyrs," and  the  Lutheran  cities  drove  from  their  gates  as  danger- 
ous and  detestable  heretics,  the  English  refugees  who  fled  to 
them  for  shelter.  By  those  cities  or  congregations,  on  the  con- 
trary,— whether  in  Germany,  France,  or  Switzerland, — in  which 
the  tenets  either  of  Zwingle  or  Calvin  were  professed,  these  pi- 
ous exiles  were  received  with  open  arms,  venerated  as  confessors, 
cherished  as  brethren  in  distress,  and  admitted  with  perfect  con- 
fidence into  the  communion  of  the  respective  churches. 

Treatment  so  opposite  from  the  two  contending  parties,  be- 
tween which  they  had  supposed  themselves  to  occupy  neutral 
ground,  failed  not  to  produce  corresponding  effects  on  the  minds 
of  the  exiles.    At  Frankfort,  where  the  largest  body  of  them 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


was  assembled,  and  where  they  had  formed  an  English  congre- 
gation using  king  Edward's  liturgy,  this  form  of  worship  became 
the  occasion. of  a  division  amongst  themselves,  and  a  strong 
parly  soon  declared  itself  in  favour  of  discarding  all  of  popish 
forms  or  doctrine  which  the  English  establishment,  in  common 
with  the  Lutjieran,  had  retained,  and  of  adopting  in  their  place 
the  simpler  creed  and  ritual  of  the  Genevan  church. 

It  was  found  impracticable  to  compromise  this  difference;  a 
considerable  number  finally  seceded  from  the  congregation,  and 
it  was  from  this  division  at  Frankfort  that  English  non-confor- 
mity took  its  birth.  No  equally  strong  manifestation  of  opinion 
occurred  amongst  the  exiles  in  other  cities  ;  but  on  the  whole  it. 
may  be  affirmed,  that  the  majority  of  these  persons  returned  from 
their  wanderings  with  their  previous  predilection  for  the  Cal- 
vinistic  model,  confirmed  and  augmented  by  the  united  influence 
of  the  reasonings  and  persuasions  of  its  ablest  apostles,  and  of 
those  sentiments  of  love  and  hatred  from  which  the  speculative 
opinions  of  most  men  receive  an  irresistible  though  secret  bias. 

Their  more  unfortunate  brethren,  in  the  mean  time,  who,  un- 
willing to  resign  their  country,  or  unable  to  escape  from  it,  had 
been  compelled  to  look  persecution  in  the  face  and  deliberately 
acquaint  themselves  with  all  its  horrors,  were  undergoing  other 
and  in  some  respects  opposite  influences. 

An  overpowering  dread  and  abhorrence  of  the  doctrines  of 
the  church  of  Rome  must  so  have  absorbed  all  other  thoughts 
and  feelings  in  the  minds  of  this  dispersed  and  affrighted  rem- 
nant of  the  English  church,  as  to  leave  them  little  attention  to 
bestow  upon  the  comparatively  trifling  objects  of  dispute  between 
protestant  and  protestant.  They  might  even  be  disposed  to  re- 
gard such  squabbles  with  emotions  of  indignation  and  disgust, 
and  to  ask  how  brethren  in  affliction  could  have  the  heart  to 
nourish  animosities  against  each  other.  The  memory  of  Edward 
VI.  was  deservedly  dear  to  them,  and  they  would  contemplate 
the  restoration  of  his  ritual  by  the  successor  of  Mary  as  an 
event  in  which  they  ought  to  regard  all  their  prayers  as  fulfilled  : 
— yet  the  practice,  forced  upon  them  by  the  vigilance  of  perse- 
cution, of  holding  their  assemblies  for  divine  worship  in  places 
unconsecrated,  with  the  omission  of  every  customa  y  ceremo- 
nial and  under  the  guidance  frequently  of  men  whom  zeal  and 
piety  alone  had  ordained  to  the  office  of  teachers  and  ministers  of 
religion,  must  amongst  them  also  have  been  producing  a  secret 
alienation  from  established  forms  and  rituals,  and  a  propen- 
sity to  those  extemporaneous  effusions  of  devotion,  or  urgencies 
of  supplication,  which  seem  best,  adapted  to  satisfy  the  wants 
of  the  pious  soul  under  the  fiery  trial  of  persecution  and  distress. 
The  Calvinistic  model  therefore,  as  the  freest  of  all,  and  that 
which  most  industriously  avoided  any  resemblance  of  popish 
forms,  might  be  the  one  most  likely  to  obtain  their  suffrage  also. 

Such  being  the  state  of  religious  opinion  in  England  at  the  ac- 
cession of  Elizabeth,  it  will  not  appear  wonderful  that  the  Ge- 
nevan reformer  should  have  begun  to  indulge  the  flattering  ex 


164 


THE  COURT  OF 


pectation  of  seeing  his  own  scheme  established  in  England  as  in 
Scotland,  and  himself  revered  throughout  the  island  as  a .  spiri- 
tual director  from  whose  decisions  there  could  be  no  appeal.  Em- 
boldened at  once  by  zeal  and  ambition,  he  hastened  to  open  a 
communication  with  the  new  government,  in  the  shape  of  an  ex- 
hortation to  the  queen  to  call  a  protestant  council  for  establish- 
ing uniformity  of  doctrine  and  of  church  government ;  but  his 
dream  of  supremacy  was  quickly  dissipated  on  receiving  for  an- 
swer, that  England  was  determined  to  preserve  her  episcopacy. 

This  decisive  rejection  of  the  presbyterian  form  was  followed 
up  by  other  acts  on  the  part  of  the  queen,  which  gave  offence  to 
all  the  real  friends  of  reformed  religion,  and  went  far  to  prove 
that  Elizabeth  was  at  fceart  little  more  of  a  protestant  than  her 
father.  The  general  prohibition  of  preaching,  which  wa9  strictly 
enforced  during  the  first  months  of  her  reign,  was  understood  as 
a  measure  of  repression  levelled  full  as  much  against  the  indis- 
creet zeal  of  the  returned  exiles,  as  against  the  disaffection  of 
the  catholics.  An  order  that,  until  the  next  meeting  of  parlia- 
ment, no  change  should  be  made  in  the  order  of  worship  estab 
lished  by  the  late  queen,  except  the  reading  of  the  creed  and 
commandments  in  English,  implied,  at  least,  a  determination  in 
the  civil  power  to  take  the  management  of  religion  entirely  out 
of  the  hands  of  a  clergy  whose  influence  over  the  minds  of  the 
people  it  viewed  with  a  jealous  eye.  It  was  soon  also  discovered, 
to  the  increasing  horror  of  all  true  protestants,  that  the  queen 
was  strctoigly  disposed  to  insist  on  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy ; 
and  even  when  the  strenuous  efforts  of  Cecil  and  others  had 
brought  hereto  yield  with  reluctance  this  capital  point,  she  still 
pertinaciously  refused  to  authorise  their  marrying  by  an  express 
law.  She  would  not  even  declare  valid  the  marriages  contract- 
ed by  them  during  the  reign  of  her  brother ;  so  that  it  became 
necessary  to  procure  private  bills  of  legitimation  in  behalf  of  the 
offspring  of  these  unions,  though  formed  under  the  express  sanc- 
tion of  then  existing  laws.  The  son  of  Cranmer  himself,  and  the 
son  of  archbishop  Parker,  were  of  the  number  of  those  who  found 
it  necessary  to  resort  to  this  disagreeable  and  degrading  expe- 
dient. 

Other  things  which  offended  the  reformists  were,  the  queen's 
predilection,  already  mentioned,  for  crucifixes,  which  she  did  not 
cause  to  be  removed  from  the  churches  till  after  considerable 
delay  and  difficulty,  and  retained  in  her  private  chapel  for  many 
years  longer, — and  her  wish  to  continue  the  use  of  altars.  This 
being  regarded  as  a  dangerous  compliance  with  the  Romish  doc- 
trine, since  an  altar  could  only  suit  with  the  notion  of  a  sacrifice 
of  Christ  in  the  mass,  earnest  expostulations  on  the  subject  were 
addressed  to  her  by  several  of  the  leading  divines  ;  and,  in  the 
end,  the  queen  found  it  expedient,  with  whatever  reluctance;  to 
ordain  the  substitution  of  communion  tables. 

She  was  also  bent  upon  retaining  in  the  church  of  which  she 
was  the  head  the  use  of  vestments  similar  to  those  worn  by  the 
different  orders  of  popish  priests  in  the  celebration  of  the  various 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


1G5 


•  flices  of  their  religion.    A  very  natural  association  of  ideas 
caused  the  protestant  clergy  to  regard  with  suspicion  and  abhor- 
rence such  an  approximation  in  externals  to  that  worship  which 
was  in  their  eyes  the  abomination  of  idolatry  ;  and  several  of  the 
returned  exiles,  to  whom  bishoprics  were  now  offered,  scrupled 
to  accept  of  them*  under  the  obligation  of  wearing  the  appointed 
habits.    Repeated  and  earnest  representations  were  made  to  the 
queen  against  them,  but  she  remained  inflexible.    In  this  dilem- 
ma, the  divines  requested  the  advice  of  Peter  Martyr,  who  had 
quitted  England  on  the  accession  of  Mary,  and  was  now  professor 
of  theology  at  Zurich.    He  persuaded  compliance,  representing 
to  them, that  it  was  better  that  high  offices   in  the  church 
should  be  occupied  by  persons  like  themselves,  though  with  the 
condition  of  submitting  to  some  things  which  they  did  not  ap- 
prove, than  that  such  posts  should  be  given  to  Lutherans  or  con- 
cealed catholics,  who,  instead  of  promoting  any  further  reforma- 
tion, would  labour  continually  to  bring  back  more  and  more  of 
the  ancient  ceremonies  and  superstitions.    This  argument  was 
deemed  conclusive,  and  the  bishoprics  were  accepted.  But  such 
a  plea,  though  it  might  suffice  certain  men  for  a  time,  could  not 
long  satisfy  universally ;  and  we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  take 
notice  of  scruples  on  this  point,  as  the  source  of  the  first  intes- 
tine divisions  by  which  the  Anglican  church  was  disturbed,  and 
of  the  first  persecutions  of  her  own  children  by  which  she  dis- 
graced herself. 

On  the  whole,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  personal  conduct 
of  Elizabeth  in  this  momentous  business  exhibited  neither  en- 
largement of  mind  nor  elevation  of  soul.  Considerably  attached 
to  ceremonial  observances,  and  superior  to  none  of  the  supersti- 
tions which  she  might  have  imbibed  in  her  childhood,  she  was, 
however,  more  attached  to  her  own  power  and  authority  than  to 
these.  Little  under  the  influence  of  any  individual  amongst  her 
clergy,  and  somewhat  inclined  to  treat  that  order  in  general  with 
harshness,  if  not  cruelty, — as  in  the  article  of  their  marriages,  in 
the  unmitigated  rigour  with  which  she  exacted  from  them  her  first 
fruits,  and  in  the  rapacity  which  she  permitted  her  courtiers  to 
exercise  upon  the  temporalities  of  the  bishoprics, — the  only  view 
which  she  took  of  the  subject  was  that  of  the  sovereign  and  the 
politician.  Aware,  on  one  hand,  of  the  manner  in  which  her 
title  to  the  crown  was  connected  with  the  renunciation  of  papal 
authority,  of  the  irreconcileable  enmity  borne  her  by  the  catholic 
powers,  and  of  the  general  attachment  of  her  subjects  to  the  cause 
of  the  reformation,  she  felt  herself  called  upon  to  assume  the  pro- 
tection of  the  protestant  interest  of  Europe,  and  to  re-establish 
that  worship  in  her  own  dominions.  On  the  other  hand,  she  re- 
marked with  secret  dread  and  aversion  the  popular  spirit  and  re- 
publican tendency  of  the  institutions  of  Calvin,  and  she  resolved 
at  all  hazards  to  check  the  growth  of  his  opinions  in  England. 
Accordingly,  it  was  the  scope  of  every  alteration  made  by  her  in 
the  service-book  of  Edward,  to  give  it  more  of  a  Lutheran  aspect, 


166 


THE  COURT  OF 


and  it  was  for  sometime  apprehended  that  she  would  cause  the 
entire  Confession  of  Augsburg  to  be  received  into  it. 

Of  toleration,  of  the  rights  of  conscience,  she  had  as  little  feel- 
ing or  understanding  as  any  prince  or  polemic  of  her  age.  Her 
establishment  was  formed  throughout  in  the  spirit  of  compromise 
and  political  expediency ;  she  took  no  pains  to  ascertain,  either 
by  the  assembling  of  a  national  synod  or  by  the  submission  of 
the  articles  to  free  discussion  in  parliament,  whether  or  not  they 
were  likely  to  prove  agreeable  to  the  opinions  of  the  majority ; 
it  sufficed  that  she  had  decreed  their  reception,  and  she  prepared, 
by  means  of  penal  statutes  strictly  executed,  to  prevent  the  pro- 
pagation of  any  doctrines,  or  the  observance  of  any  rites,  capable 
of  interfering  with  the  exact  uniformity  in  religion  then  regarded 
as  essential  to  the  peace  and  stability  of  every  well  constituted 
state. 

To  Cecil,  her  chief  secretary  of  state,  and  to  Nicholas  Bacon, 
her  keeper  of  the  seals,  assisted  by  a  select  number  of  divines, 
the  management  of  this  great  affair  was  chiefly  intrusted  by  the 
queen  :  and  much  might  be  said  of  the  sagacity  displayed  by  her 
in  this  appointment,  and  of  the  wisdom  and  moderation  exercised 
by  them  in  the  discharge  of  their  office  ;  much  also  might  be, 
much  has  been  said,  of  the  excellencies  of  the  form  of  worship 
by  them  established  ; — but  little,  alas !  of  moral  or  of  religious 
merit  can  be  awarded  by  the  verdict  of  impartial  history  to  the 
motives  or  conduct  of  the  heroine  of  protestantism  in'a  transac- 
tion so  momentous  and  so  memorable. 

Three  acts  of  the  parliament  of  1559  gave  the  sanction  of  law 
to  the  new  ecclesiastical  establishment;  they  were  those  of  Supre- 
macy, of  Uniformity,  and  a  third  empowering  the  queen  to  ap- 
point bishops.  By  the  first,  the  authority  of  the  pope  was  so- 
lemnly renounced,  and  the  whole  government  of  the  church  vest- 
ed in  the  queen,  her  heirs  and  successors  ;  and  an  important 
clause  further  enabled  her  and  them  to  delegate  their  authority 
to  commissioners  of  their  own  appointment,  who,  amongst  other 
extraordinary  powers  were  to  be  invested  with  the  cognisance 
of  all  errors  and  heresies  whatsoever.  On  this  foundation  was 
erected  the  famous  High  Commission  Court,  which  grew  into 
one  of  the  principal  grievances  of  this  and  the  two  following 
reigns,  and  of  which,  from  the  moment  of  its  formation,  the  pro- 
ceedings assumed  a  character  of  arbitrary  violence  utterly  incom- 
patible with  the  security  and  happiness  of  the  subject,  and  hos- 
tile to  the  whole  tenor  of  the  ancient  charters.* 

The  act  of  Uniformity  ordained  an  exact  compliance  in  all 
points  with  the  established  form  of  worship,  and  a  punctual  at- 
tendance on  its  offices;  it  also  rendered  highly  penal  the  exer- 
cise, public  or  private,  of  any  other ;  and  of  this  law  it  was  not 
long  before  several  unfortunate  catholics  were  doomed  to  expe- 
rience the  utmost  rigour. 

Many  parish  priests,  who  had  been  open  and  violent  papists  in 
the  last  reign,  permitted  themselves  to  take  the  oath  of  supre- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


167 


maeyand  retain  their  cures  under  the  new  order  of  things,  a  kind 
of  compliance  with  the  times  which  the  court  of  Rome  is  said 
sometimes  to  have  permitted,  sometimes  even  to  have  privately 
enjoined, — on  the  principle  of  Peter  Martyr,  that  it  was  better 
that  lis  secret  adherents  should  continue  to  occupy  the  churches, 
on  whatever  conditions,  than  that  they  should  be  surrendered  en- 
tirely into  the  hands  of  an  opposite  party.  The  bishops,  on  the 
contrary,  considered  themselves  as  called  upon  by  the  dignity  of 
their  character  and  office  to  bear  a  public  testimony  against  the 
defection  of  England  from  the  holy  see  ;  and  those  of  them  who 
had  not  previously  been  deprived  on  other  grounds,  now  in  a  body 
refused  the  oaths  and  submitted  themselves  to  the  consequences. 
All  were  deprived,  a  few  imprisoned,  several  committed  to  hon- 
ourable custody. .  The  policy  of  Elizabeth,  unlike  the  genuine 
bigotry  of  her  sister,  contented  itself  with  a  kind  of  negative  in- 
tolerance ;  and  as  long  as  the  degraded  bishops  abstained  from 
all  manifestations,  by  words  or  deeds,  of  hostility  against  her  go- 
vernment and  ecclesiastical  establishment,  and  all  celebration  of 
the  peculiar  rites  of  their  religion,  they  were  secure  from  moles- 
tation ;  and  never  to  them,  as  to  .their  unfortunate  protestant 
predecessors,  were  articles  of  religion  offered  for  signature  under 
the  fearful  alternative  of  compliance  or  martyrdom. 

To  supply  the  vacancies  of  the  episcopal  bench  became  one  of 
the  earliest  cares  of  the  queen  and  her  ministers ;  and  their 
choice,  which  fell  on  the  most  eminent  of  the  confessors  and  ex- 
iles, was  generally  approved  by  the  nation. 

Dr.  Parker,  formerly  her  mother's  chaplain,  and  the  religious 
instructor  of  her  own  childhood,  was  designated  by  Elizabeth  for 
the  primacy.  This  eminent  divine  had  likewise  been  one  of  the 
chaplains  of  Edward  VI.,  and  enjoyed  under  his  reign  consider- 
able church  preferments.  He  had  been  the  friend  of  Cranmer, 
Bucer,  Latimer,  and  Ridley  ;  of  Cook,  Cheke,  and  Cecil ;  and 
was  the  ardent  coadjutor  of  these  meritorious  public  characters 
in  the  promotion  of  reformed  religion,  and  the  advancement  of 
general  learning, — two  grand  objects,  which  were  regarded  by 
them  as  inseparable  and  almost  identical. 

On  the  accession  of  Mary,  being  stripped  of  all  his  benefices 
as  a  married  priest,  Parker  with  his  family  was  reduced  to  po- 
verty and  distress  ;  and  it  was  only  by  a  careful  concealment  of 
his  person,  by  frequent  changes  of  place,  and  in  some  instances 
by  the  timely  advertisements  of  watchful  friends,  that  he  was 
enabled  to  avoid  a  still  severer  trial  of  his  constancy.  During 
this  period  of  distress  he  found  support  and  solace  from  the  pious 
task  of  translating  into  English  metre  the  whole  of  the  Psalms. 
The  version  still  exists  in  manuscript,  and  is  executed  with  some 
spirit,  and  not  inelegantly,  in  the  old  measure  of  fourteen  syl- 
lables. 

Parker's  "Nolo  episcoparP*  is  supposed  to  have  been  more  than, 
ordinarily  sincere :  in  fact,  the  station  of  metropolitan  must  at 
this  juncture  have  been  felt  as  one  of  considerable  difficulty,  per- 
haps even  of  danger  ;  and  the  stormy  temper  of  the  queen  after- 


168  , 


THE  COURT  OF 


wards  prepared  for  the  prelate  so  much  of  contradiction  and  hu- 
miliation as  caused  him  more  than  once  to  bewail  his  final  ac- 
ceptance of  the  highest  dignity  of  the  English  church. 

With  all  her  personal  regard  for  the  primate,  Elizabeth  could 
not  always  refrain  in  his  presence  from  reflections  against  mar- 
ried priests,  which  gave  him  great  pain. 

During  a  progress  which  she  made  in  1561,  into  Essex  and 
Suffolk,  she  expresssed  high  displeasure  at  finding  so  many  of  the 
clergy  married,  and  the  cathedrals  and  colleges  so  filled  with 
women  and  children ;  and  in  consequence  she  addressed  to  the 
archbishop  a  royal  injunction,  "  that  no  head  or  member  of  any 
college  or  cathedral  should  bring  a  wife  or  any  other  woman  into 
the  precincts  of  it,  to  abide  in  the  same,  on  pain  of  forfeiture  of 
all  ecclesiastical  promotion."  Parker  regarded  it  as  his  duty  to 
iemonstrate  with  her  in  person  against  so  popish  a  prohibition  ; 
on  which,  after  declaring  to  him  that  she  repented  of  having  made 
any  married  bishops,  she  went  on  to  treat  the  institution  of  ma- 
trimony itself  with  a  satire  and  contempt,  which  filled  him  with 
horror. 

It  was  to  his  wife  that  her  majesty,,  in  returning  acknowledg- 
ments for  the  magnificient  hospitality  with  which  she  had  been 
received  at  the  archiepiscopal  palace,  made  use  of  the  well  known 
ungracious  address  ;  "  Madam  1  may  not  call  you,  mistress  I  am 
ashamed  to  call  you,  and  so  I  know  not  what  to  call  you  ;  but 
howsoever  I  thank  you." 

But  these  fits  of  ill  humour  were  transient ;  for  Parker  learned 
the  art  of  dispelling  them  by  submissions,  or  soothing  them  by 
the  frequent  and  respectful  tender  of  splendid  entertainments, 
and  costly  gifts.  He  did  not  long  remain  insensible  to  the  charm* 
of  rank  and  fortune  ;  and  it  must  not  be  concealed  that  an  inor- 
dinate love  of  power,  and  a  haughty  intolerance  of  all  opposition, 
gradually  surperseded  that  candour  and  Christian  meekness  of 
which  he  had  formerly  been  cited  as  an  edifying  example.  Against, 
that  sect  amongst  the  clergy  who  refused  to  adopt  the  appointed 
habits  and  scrupled  some  of  the.  ceremonies,  soon  after  distin- 
guished by  the  appellation  of  Puritants,  he  exercised  his  autho- 
rity with  unsparing  rigour  ;  and  even  stretched  it  by  degress  so 
far  beyond  all  legal  bounds,  that  the  queen  herself,  little  as  she 
was  inclined  to  tolerate  this  sect  or  to  resent  any  arbitrary  con- 
duct in  her  commissioners,  was  moved  at  length  to  interpose  and 
reverse  some  of  his  proceedings.    The  archbishop  now  become 


complained  and  remonstrated  instead  of  submitting :  reproaches 
ensued  on  the  part  of  Elizabeth ;  and  in  May  1575,  the  learned 
prelate  ended  in  a  kind  of  disgrace,  the  career  which  he  had  long 
pursued  amid  the  warmest  testimonies  of  royal  approbation. 

The  fairest,  at  least  the  most  undisputed,  claim  of  this  eminent 
prelate  to  the  gratitude  of  his  contemporaries  and  the  respect  of 
posterity,  is  founded  on  the  character  which  his  high  station  en- 
abled him  to  assume  and  maintain,  of  the  most  munificent  patron 
of  letters  of  his  age  and  country.    The  study  which  he  particu- 


incapable  of  yielding  his  own 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 

lady  encouraged,  and  to  which  his  own  leisure  was  almost  exclu- 
sively devoted,  was  that  of  English  antiquities ;  and  he  formed 
and  presented  to  Corpus  Christi  college  a  large  and  valuable  col- 
lection of  the  manuscripts  relative  to  these  objects  which  had 
been  scattered  abroad  at  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  and 
must  have  been  Irretrievably  lost  but  for  his  diligence  in  inqui- 
ring after  them  and  the  liberality  with  which  he  rewarded  their 
discovery.  He  edited  four  of  our  monkish  historians  ;  was  the 
first  publisher  of  that  interesting  specimen  of  early  English  satire 
and  versification,  Pierce  Plowman's  Visions;  composed  a  history 
in  Latin  of  his  predecessors  in  the  see  of  Canterbury,  and  encour- 
aged the  labours  ofynany  private,  scholars  by  acts  of  generosity 
and  kindness. 

Grindal,  a  divine  of  eminence,  who  during  his  voluntary  exile 
at  Frankfort  had  taken  a  strong  part  in  favour  of  king  Edward's 
Service  book,  was  named  as  the  successor  of  Bonner  in  the  bi- 
shopric of  London  ;  but  a  considerable  time  was  spent  in  over- 
coming his  objections  to  the  habits  and  ceremonies,  before  he 
could  be  prevailed  upon  to  assume  a  charge  of  which  he  deeply 
felt  the  importance  and  responsibility. 

To  the  reputation  of  learning  and  piety  which  this  prelate  en- 
joyed in  common  with  so  many  of  his  clerical  contemporaries, 
he  added  an  extraordinary  earnestness  in  the  promotion  of  Chris- 
tian knowledge,  and  a  courageous  inflexibility  on  points  of  pro- 
fessional duty,  imitated  by  few  and  excelled  by  none  His  manly 
spirit  disdained  that  slavish  obsequiousness  by  which  too  many 
of  his  episcopal  brethren  paid  homage  to  the  narrow  prejudices 
and  state  jealousies  of  an  imperious  mistress,  and  it  soon  became 
evident  that  strife  and  opposition  awaited  him. 

His  first  difference  was  with  archbishop  Parker,  whom  he  highly 
offended  by  his  backwardness  in  proceeding  to  extremities  against 
the  puritans,  a  sect  many  of  whose  scruples  Grindal  himself  had 
formerly  entertained,  and  was  still  inclined  to  view  with  respect 
or  pity  rather  than  with  indignation.  Cecil,  who  was  his  chief 
friend  and  patron,  apprehensive  of  his  involving  himself  in  trou- 
ble, gladly  seized  an  occasion  of  withdrawing  him  from  the  con- 
test, by  procuring  his  appointment  in  1570  to  the  vacant  arch- 
bishopric of  York  ;  a  hitherto  neglected  province,  in  which  his 
efforts  for  the  instruction  of  the  people  and  the  reformation  of  the 
state  of  the  church  were  peculiarly  required  and  eminently  suc- 
cessful. 

For  his  own  repose,  Grindal  ought  never  to  have  quitted  this 
sphere  of  unmolested  usefulness  ;  but  when,  on  the  death  of  Par- 
ker, in  1575,  the  primacy  was  offered  to  him,  ambition,  or  per- 
haps the  hope  of  rendering  his  plans  more  extensively  beneficial, 
unfortunately  prompted  its  acceptance.  Thus  was  he  brought 
once  more  within  the  uncongenial  atmosphere  of  a  court,  and 
subjected  to  the  immediate  controul  of  his  sovereign  in  matters 
on  which  he  regarded  it  as  a  duty,  on  the  double  ground  of  con- 
science and  the  rights  of  his  office,  to  resist  the  fiat  of  a  tempo- 
ral head  of  the  church. 

V 


170 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  queen,  whose  dread  and  hatred  of  the  puritans  augmented 
with  the  severities  which,  he  exercised  against  them,  had  con- 
ceived a  violent  aversion  to  certain  meetings  called  prophesy- 
ings,  at  this  time  held  by  the  clergy  for  the  purpose  of  exercis- 
ing their  younger  members  in  expounding  the  Scriptures,  and 
at  which  the  laity  had  begun  to  attend  as  auditors  in  great 
numbers  and  with  much  interest.  Such  assemblies,  her  majesty 
declared,  were  nothing  else  than  so  many  schools  of  puritanism, 
where  the  peoble  learned  to  be  so  inquisitive  that  their  spiritual 
superiors  would  soon  lose  all  influence  over  them,  and  she  issued 
possitive  commands  to  Grindal  for  their  suppression.  At  the 
same  time  she  expressed  to  him  her  extreme  displeasure  at  the 
number  of  preachers  licensed  in  his  province,  and  required  that 
it  should  be  very  considerably  lessened,  "  urging  that  it  was 
good  for  the  world  to  have  few  preachers,  that  three  or  four 
might  suffice  for  a  county  :  and  that  the  reading  of  the  homilies 
to  the  people  was  enough."  But  the  venerable  primate,  so  far 
from  consenting  to  abridge  the  means  of  that  religious  instruc- 
tion which  he  regarded  it  as  the  most  sacred  duty  of  a  protestant 
church  to  afford,  took  the  freedom  of  addressing  to  her  majesty 
a  very  plain  and  earnest  letter  of  expostulation.  In  this  piece, 
after  showing  the  great  necessity  which  existed  for  multiplying, 
rather  than  diminishing,  opportunities  of  edification  both  to  the 
clergy  and  the  people,  and  protesting  that  he  could  not  in  con- 
science be  instrumental  to  the  suppression  either  of  preaching 
or  prophesyings,  he  proceeded  to  remonstrate  with  her  majesty 
on  the  arbitrary,  imperious,  and  as  it  were  papal  manner,  in  which 
she  took  upon  herself  to  decide  points  better  left  to  the  manage- 
ment of  her  bishops.  He  ended  by  exhorting  her  to  remember 
that  she  also  was  a  mortal  creature,  and  accountable  to  God  for 
the  exercise  of  her  power,  and  that  she  ought  above  all  things  to 
be  desirous  of  employing  it  piously  for  the  promotion  of  true 
religion. 

The  event  showed  this  remonstrance  to  be  rather  well  intend- 
ed than  well  judged.  Indignation  was  the  only  sentiment  which 
it  awakened  in  the  haughty  mind  of  Elizabeth,  and  she  answered 
it  by  an  order  of  the  star-chamber,  in  virtue  of  which  the  arch- 
bishop was  suspended  from  his  functions  for  six  months,  and  con- 
fined during  the  same  period  to  his  house.  At  the  end  of  this  time, 
he  was  urged  by  Burleigh  to  acknowledge  himself  in  fault  and 
beg  the  queen's  forgiveness,  but  he  steadily  refused  to  compro- 
mise thus  a  good  cause,  and  his  sequestration  was  continued.  It 
even  appears  that  nothing  but  the  honest  indignation  of  some  of 
her  ministers  and  courtiers  restrained  the  queen  from  proceeding 
to  deprive  him. 

At  the  end  of  four  or  five  years,  her  anger  being  somewhat 
abated,  it  pleased  her  to  take  off  the  sequestration,  but  without 
restoring  the  primate  to  her  favour  ;  and  as  he  was  now  old  and 
blind,  he  willingly  consented  to  resign  the  primacy  and  retire  on 
a  pension  :  but  in  1583,  before  the  matter  could  be  finally  ar- 
ranged, he  died. 


QUKKN  ELIZABETH 


171 


Archbishop  Grindal  was  a  great  contributor  to  Fox's  "  Acts 
anil  Monuments,"  for  which  he  collected  many  materials;  but 
he  was  the  author  of  no  considerable  work,  and  on  the  whole  he 
seems  to  have  been  less  admirable  by  the  display  of  any  extra-  f 
ordinary  talents  than  revered  and  exemplary  for  the  primitive 
virtues  of  probity,  sincerity,  and  godly  zeal.  These  were  the 
qualities  which  obtained  for  him  the  celebration  of  Spenser  in 
his  "  Shepherd's  Calendar,"  where  he  is  designated  by  the  name 
of  Algrind,  and  described  as  a  true  teacher  of  the  Gospel  and  a 
severe  reprover  of  the  pride  and  world  liness  of  the  popish  cler- 
gy. The  lines  were  written  during  the  period  of  the  prelate's 
disgrace,  which  is  allegorically  related  and  bewailed  by  the  poet. 

Another  distinguished  ornament  of  the  episcopal  bench  was 
Jewel,  consecrated  to  the  see  of  Salisbury  in  1 560.  It  is  remark- 
able that  this  learned  apologist  of  the  church  of  England  had 
expressed  at  first  a  stonger  repugnance  to  the  habits  than  most 
of  his  colleagues ;  but  having  once  brought  himself  to  compli- 
ance, he  thenceforth  became  noted  for  the  rigour  with  which  he 
exacted  it  of  others. 

In  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.,  Jewel  had  become  suspected  of 
opinions  which  he  openly  embraced  on  the  accession  of  Edward, 
and  he  was  sufficiently  distinguished  amongst  the  reformers  of  this 
rei°jn  to  be  marked  out  as  one  of  the  first  objects  of  persecution 
under  Mary.  As  a  preliminary  step,  on  which  proceedings 
might  be  founded,  the  Romish  articles  were  offered  for  his  sig- 
nature, when  he  disappointed  alike  his  enemies  and  his  friends 
by  subscribing  them  without  apparent  reluctance.  But  his  in- 
sincerity in  this  act  was  notorious,  and  it  was  in  contemplation 
to  subject  him  to  the  fierce  interrogatories  of  Bonner,  when  time- 
ly warning  enabled  him,  through  many  perils,  to  escape  out  of 
the  country.  Safe  arrived  at  Frankfort,  he  made  a  public  con- 
fession, before  the  English  congregation,  of  his  guilt  in  signing 
articles  which  his  conscience  abhorred,  and  humbly  entreated 
forgiveness  of  God  and  the  church.  After  this,  he  repaired  to 
Strasburgli  and  passed  away  the  time  with  his  friend  Peter 
Martyr. 

The  erudition  of  Jewel  was  profound  and  extensive,  his  pri- 
vate life  amiable,  his  performance  of  his  episcopal  duties  sedu- 
lous ;  and  such  was  the  esteem  in  which  his  celebrated  "  Apolo- 
gy" was  held,  that  Elizabeth,  and  afterwards  James  I.,  ordained 
that  a  copy  of  it  should  be  kept  in  every  parish-church  in  England. 

Of  Dr.  Cox,  elevated  to  the  see  of  Ely,  mention  has  already 
been  made ;  and  it  would  be  superfluous  here  to  enter  more 
largely  into  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  the  reign. 

A  careful  consideration  of  the  behaviour  of  Elizabeth  towards 
the  two  successive  primates  Parker  and  Grindal,  will  furnish  a 
sufficiently  accurate  notion  of  the  spirit  of  her  religious  policy, 
besides  affording  a  valuable  addition  to  the  characteristic  traits 
illustrative  of  her  temper  and  opinions 


172 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  XI1L 

1561. 

Tragedy  of  Ferrex  and  Porrex. — Translations  of  ancient  trage- 
dies.— Death  of  Francis  II. — Mary  refuses  to  ratify  the  treaty 
of  Edinburgh — returns  to  Scotland. — Enmity  between  Mary 
and  Elizabeth. — Philip  II.  secretly  encourages  the  English  pa- 
pists.— Measures  of  rigour  adopted  against  them  by  Elizabeth. 
— Jlnecdote  of  the  queen  and  Dr.  Sampson. — St.  PauVs  struck 
by  lightning. — Bishop  Pilkintorv's  sermon  on  the  occasion. — 
Paul's  Walk  — Precautions  against  the  queen's  being  poisoned. 
—  The  king  of  Sweden  proposes  to  visit  her. — Steps  taken  in  this 
matter. 

The  eighteenth  of  January  1561,  ought  to  be  celebrated  as 
the  birthday  of  the  English  drama;  for  it  was  on  this  day  that 
Thomas  Sackville  caused  to  be  represented  at  Whitehall,  for  the 
entertainment  of  Elizabeth  and  her  court,  the  tragedy  of  Ferrex 
and  Porrex,  otherwise  called  Gorboduc,  the  joint  production  of 
himself  and  Thomas  Norton.  From  the  unrivalled  force  of 
imagination,  the  vigour  and  purity  of  diction,  and  the  intimate 
knowledge  and  tasteful  adaptation  of  the  beauties  of  the  Latin 
poets  displayed  in  the  contributions  of  Sackville  to  the  Mirror 
of  Magistrates,  a  lettered  audience  would  conceive  high  expec- 
tations from  his  attempt  in  a  new  walk  of  poetry :  but  in  the 
then  barbarous  state  of  our  Theatre,  such  a  performance  as  Gor- 
boduc must  have  been  hailed  as  not  only  a  novelty  but  a  wonder. 
It  was  the  first  piece  composed  in  English  on  the  ancient  tragic 
model,  with  a  regular  division  into  five  acts,  closed  by  lyric  cho- 
ruses. 

It  offered  the  first  example  of  a  story  from  British  history,  or 
what  passed  for  history,  completely  dramatised  and  represented 
with  an  attempt  at  theatrical  illusion  ;  for  the  earlier  pieces  pub- 
lished under  the  title  of  tragedies  were  either  ballads  or  mono- 
logues, which  might  indeed  be  sung  or  recited,  but  were  incapable 
of  being  acted.  The  plot  of  the  play  was  fraught  with  those  cir- 
cumstances of  the  deepest  horror  by  which  the  dormant  sensibili- 
ties of  an  inexperienced  audience  require  and  delight  to  be  awa- 
kened. An  unwonted  force  of  thought  and  dignity  of  language 
claimed  the  patience,  if  not  the  admiration,  of  the  hearers,  for 
the  long  political  disquisitions  by  which  the  business  of  the 
piece  was  somewhat  painfully  retarded. 

The  curiosity  of  the  public  respecting  a  drama  which  had  been 
performed  with  general  applause  both  at  court  and  before  the 
society  of  the  Middle  Temple,  encouraged  its  surreptitious  ap- 
pearance in  print  in  1565,  and  a  second  stolen  edition  was  fol- 
lowed, some  years  after,  by  a  corrected  one  published  under  the 


giiKKN  ELIZABETH. 


173 


inspection  of  the  authors  themselves.  The  taste  for  the  legiti- 
mate drama  thus  awakened,  may  be  supposed  to  have  led  to  the 
naturalisation  amongst  us  of  several  of  its  best  ancient  models. 
The  Phcenissee  of  Euripides  appeared  under  the  title  of  Jocasta, 
having  received  an  English  dress  from  Gascoigne  and  Kinwel- 
mershe,  two  students  of  Gray's  Inn.  The  ten  tragedies  of  Se- 
neca, englished  by  different  hands,  succeeded.  It  is  worthy  of 
note,  however,  that  none  of  these  translators  had  the  good  taste 
to  imitate  the  authors  of  Ferrex  and  Porrex  in  the  adoption  of 
blank  verse,  and  that  one  only  amongst  them  made  use  of  the 
heroic  rhymed  couplet;  the  others  employing  the  old  alexan- 
drine measure,  excepting  in  the  choruses,  which  were  given  in 
various  kinds  of  stanza.  Her  majesty  alone  seems  to  have  per- 
ceived the  superior  advantages,  or  to  have  been  tempted  by  the 
greater  facility  of  Sackville's  verse  ;  and  amongst  the  MSS.  of 
the  Bodleian  library  there  is  found  a  translation  by  her  own  hand 
of  part  of  Seneca's  Hercules  Oetseus,  which  is  in  this  measure. 
Warton  however  adds,  that  this  specimen  *  has  no  other  re- 
commendation than  its  royalty." 

The  propensity  of  Elizabeth,  amid  all  the  serious  cares  of 
government  and  all  the  pettinesses  of  that  political  intrigue  to 
which  she  was  addicted,  to  occupy  herself  with  attempts  in  po- 
lite literature,  for  which  she  possessed  no  manner  of  talent,  is  not 
the  least  remarkable  among  the  features  of  her  extraordinary  and 
complicated  character. 

At  the  period  of  her  reign  however  which  we  are  now  consi- 
dering, public  affairs  must  have  required  from  her  an  almost  un- 
divided attention.  By  the  death  of  Francis  II.  about  the  end  of 
the  year  1560,  the  queen  of  Scots  had  become  a  widow,  and  the 
relations  of  England  with  France  and  Scotland  had  immediately 
assumed  an  entirely  novel  aspect. 

The  change  was  in  one  respect  highly  to  the  advantage  of  Eli- 
zabeth. By  the  loss  of  her  royal  husband,  Mary  was  deprived 
of  that  command  over  the  resources  of  the  French  monarchy  by 
which  she  had  hoped  to  render  effective  her  claim  to  the  English 
crown,  and  she  found  it  expedient  to  discontinue  for  the  present 
the  use  of  the  royal  arms  of  England.  The  enmity  of  the  queen- 
mother  had  even  chased  her  from  that  Court  where  she  had 
reigned  so  lately,  and  obliged  her  to  retire  to  her  uncle,  the  car- 
dinal of  Lorrain  at  Rheims.  But  from  the  age  and  temper  of 
the  beautiful  and  aspiring  Mary,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  she 
would  ere  long  be  induced  to  re-enter  the  matrimonial  state  with 
some  one  of  the  princes  of  Europe  ;  and  neither  as  a  sovereign 
nor  a  woman  could  Elizabeth  regard  without  jealousy  the  plans 
for  her  re-establishment  already  agitated  by  her  ambitious  un- 
cles of  the  house  of  Guise.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  was 
the  first  object  of  Elizabeth  to  obtain  from  her  rival  the  formal 
ratification,  which  had  hitherto  been  withheld,  of  the  treaty  of 
Edinburgh,  by  one  article  of  which  Mary  was  pledged  never  to 
resume  the  English  arms  ;  and  Throgmorton,  then  ambassador  to 
France,  was  instructed  to  urge  strongly  her  immediate  compli- 


1T4 


THE  COURT  OF 


ance  with  this  certainly  not  inequitable  demand.  The  queen  of 
Scots,  however,  persisted  in  evading  its  fulfilment,  and  on  pleas 
so  forced  and  futile  as  justly  to  confirm  all  previous  suspicions 
of  her  sincerity.' 

Matters  were  in  this  state  between  the  two  sovereigns,  when 
Mary  came  to  the  resolution  of  acceding  to  the  unanimous  en- 
treaties of  her  subjects  of  both  religions,  by  returning  to  govern 
in  person  the  kingdom  of  her  ancestors;  and  she  sent  to  request 
of  Elizabeth  a  safe-conduct.  The  English  princess  promptly  re- 
plied, that  the  queen  had  only  to  ratify  the  treaty  of  Edinburgh, 
and  she  should  obtain  not  merely  a  safe-conduct  but  free  per- 
mission to  shorten  the  fatigues  of  her  voyage  by  passing  through 
England,  where  she  should  be  received  with  all  the  marks  of  af- 
fection due  to  a  beloved  sister.  By  this  answer,  Mary  chose  to 
regard  herself  as  insulted ;  and  declaring  to  the  English  ambas- 
sador in  great  heat,  that  nothing  vexed  her  so  much  as  to  have 
exposed  herself  without  necessity  to  such  a  refusal,  and  that  she 
doubted  not  that  she  should  be  able  to  return  to  her  country 
without  the  permission  of  Elizabeth,  as  she  had  quitted  it  in  spite 
of  all  the  vigilance  of  her  brother,  she  abruptly  broke  off  the 
conference. 

Henceforth  the  breach  between  these  illustrious  kinswomen 
became  irreparable.  In  vain  did  Mary,  after  her  arrival  in  Scot- 
land, endeavour  to  remedy  the  imprudence  which  she  was  con- 
scious of  having  committed,  by  professions  of  respect  and  friend- 
ship ;  for  with  these  hollow  compliments  she  had  the  further  in- 
discretion to  mingle  the  demand  that  Elizabeth  should  publicly 
declare  her  next  heir  to  the  English  throne ;  a  proposal  which 
this  high-spirited  princess  could  never  hear  without  rage.  Nei- 
ther of  the  queens  was  a  novice  in  the  arts  of  dissimulation,  and 
as  often  as  it  suited  the  interest  or  caprice  of  the  moment,  each 
would  lavish  upon  the  other,  without  scruple,  every  demonstra- 
tion of  amity,  every  pledge  of  affection  ;  but  jealousy,  suspicion, 
and  hatred,  dwelt  irremovably  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  their 
hearts.  The  Protestant  party  in  Scotland  was  powerfully  pro- 
tected by  Elizabeth,  the  Catholic  party  in  England  was  secretly 
incited  by  Mary;  and  it  became  scarcely  less  the  care  and  occu- 
pation of  each  to  disturb  the  administration  of  her  rival  than  to 
fix  her  own  on  a  solid  basis. 

Mary  had  been  attended  on  her  return  to  Scotland  by  her 
three  uncles,  the  duke  of  Aumale,  the  grand  prior  and  the  mar- 
quis of  Elbeuf,  with  a  numerous  retinue  of  French  nobility;  and 
when,  after  a  short  visit,  the  duke  and  the  grand  prior  took  their 
leave  of  her,  they,  with  their  company  consisting  of  more  than  a 
hundred,  returned  through  England,  visiting  in  their  way  the 
court  of  Elizabeth.  Brantome,  who  was  of  the  party,  has  given 
incidentally  the  following  particulars  of  their  entertainment  in 
the  short  memoir  which  he  has  devoted  to  the  celebration  of 
Henry  II.  of  France. 

"  Bref,  c'estoit  un  roy  tres  accomply  &  fort  aymabie.  J'ay 
*»uv  conter  a  la  reigne  d'Angleterre  qui  est  aujouixPhuy,  que 


QUKKN  ELIZABETH. 


175 


x'estoit  le  roy  &  le  prince  tlu  monde  qu'elle  avoit  plus  desire  de 
voir,  pour  le  beau  rapport  qu'on  luy  en  avoit  fait,  &  pour  sa 
grande  renommde  qui  en  voloit  par  tout.  Monsieur  le  connesta- 
ble  qui  vit  aujourd'huy  s'en  pourra  bien  ressouvenir,  ce  fut  lors- 
que  retournant  d'Escosse  M.  le  grand  prieur  de  France,  de  la 
maison  de  Lorraine,  &  luy,  la  reigne  leur  donna  un  soir  a  soup 
per,  ou  apres  se  fit  un  ballet  de  ses  filles,  qu'elle  avoit  ordonne 
&  dressy  representant  les  vierges  de  l'evangile,  desquelles  les 
unes  avoient  leurs  lampes  allum^es  &  les  autres  n'avoient  ny 
huile  ny  feu  &  en  demandoient.  Ces  lampes  estoient  d'argcnt 
fort  gentiment  faites  &  elabourees,  &  les  dames  etoient  tres- 
belles  &  honnestes  &  bien  apprises,  qui  prirent  nous  autres 
Francois  pour  danser,  mesme  la  reigne  dansa,  &  de  fort  bonne 
grace  &  belle  majesty  royale,  car  elle  l'avoit  &  estoit  lors  en  sa 
grande  beaute  &  belle  grace.  Mien  ne  1'a  gastee  que  1'execu- 
tion  de  la  pauvre  reigne  d'Escosse,  sans  cela  c'estoit  une  tres- 
rare  princesse. 

" .  ...  Estant  ainsi  a  table  devisant  familierement  avec  ces 
seigneurs,  elle  dit  ces  mots,  (apres  avoir  fort  loue  le  roy:)  C'es- 
toit le  prince  du  monde  que  j'avois  plus  desire  de  voir,  &  luy 
avois  deja  mande  qui  bientost  je  le  verrois,  &  pour  ce  j'avois 
command:-  de  me  faire  bien  appareiller  mes  galeres  (usant de  ces 
mots)  pour  passer  en  France  expres  pour  le  voir.  Monsieur  le 
connestable  d'aujourd'huy,  qui  estoit  lors  Monsieur  d'Amville, 
respondit,  Madame,  je  m'asseure  que  vous  eussiez  est-  tres- 
content  de  le  voir,  car  son  humeur  &  sa  facon  vous  eussent 
pleu  ;  aussi  lui  eust  il  este  tres-content  de  vous  voir,  car  il  eust 
fort  ami  votre  belle  humeur  &  vos  agreables  facons,  &  vous  eust 
fait  un  honorable  accueil  &  tres-bonne  chere,  &  vous  eust  bien 
fait  passer  le  temps.  Je  le  croy  &  m'en  asseure,  dit  elle,"  &c. 

By  the  death  of  the  king  of  France,  and  the  increasing  dis- 
tractions of  that  unhappy  country  under  the  feeble  minority  of 
Charles  IX.,  the  politics  of  the  king  of  Spain  also  were  affected. 
He  had  not  now  to  fear  the  union  of  the  crowns  of  England, 
France,  and  Scotland,  under  the  joint  rule  of  Francis  and  Mary, 
which  he  had  once  regarded  as  a  not  improbable  event ;  conse- 
quently his  strongest  inducement  for  keeping  measures  with 
Elizabeth  ceased  to  operate,  and  he  began  daily  to  disclose  more 
and  more  of  that  animosity  with  which  he  could  not  fail  to  re- 
gard a  princess  who  was  at  once  the  heroine  and  patroness  of 
protestantism.  From  this  time  he  began  to  furnish  secret  aids 
which  added  hope  and  courage  to  the  English  partisans  of  pope- 
ry and  of  Mary;  and  Elizabeth  judged  it  a  necessary  policy  to 
place  her  catholic  subjects  under  a  more  rigid  system  of  re- 
straint. It  was  contrary  to  her  private  inclinations  to  treat  this 
sect  with  severity,  and  she  was  the  more  reluctant  to  do  so  as 
she  thus  gratified  in  an  especial  manner  the  wishes  of  the  puri- 
tanical or  Calvinistic  party  in  the  church,  their  inveterate  ene- 
mies ;  and  by  identifying  in  some  measure  her  cause  with  theirs, 
saw  herself  obliged  to  conform  in  several  points  to  their  views 
rather  than  her  own  wishes. 


176 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  law  which  rendered  it  penal  to  hear  mass,  was  first  put  in 
force  against  several  persons  of  rank,  that  the  example  might 
strike  the  more  terror.  Sir  Edward  Waldegrave,  in  Mary's 
reign  a  privy-councillor,  was,  on  this  account,  committed  to  the 
Tower,  with  his  lady  and  some  others ;  and  lord  Loughborough, 
also  a  privy-councillor  much  favoured  and  trusted  by  the  late 
queen,  was  brought  into  trouble  on  the  same  ground.  Against 
Waldegrave,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  much  cruelty  was  exercised 
during  his  imprisonment ;  for  it  is  said  to  have  occasioned  his 
death,  which  occurred  in  the  Tower  a  few  months  afterwards. 
The  High  Commission  court  now  began  to  take  cognisance  of 
what  was  called  recusancy,  or  the  refusal  to  take  the  oaths  of 
allegiance  and  supremacy ;  it  also  encouraged  informations 
against  such  as  refrained  from  joining  in  the  established  wor- 
ship;  and  numerous  professors  of  the  old  religion,  both  ecclesi- 
astics and  laity,  were  summoned  on  one  account  or  other  before 
this  tribunal.  Of  these,  some  were  committed  to  prison,  others 
restricted  from  entering  certain  places,  as  the  two  universities, 
or  circumscribed  within  the  limits  of  some  town  or  county,  and 
most  were  bound  in  great  penalties  to  be  forthcoming  whenever  it 
should  be  required. 

As  a  further  demonstration  of  zeal  against  popery,  the  queen 
caused  all  the  altars  in  Westminster  abbey  to  be  pulled  down ; 
and  about  the  same  time  a  remarkable  scene  occurred  between 
her  majesty  and  Dr.  Thomas  Sampson,  dean  of  Christ  church. 

It  happened  that  the  queen  had  appointed  to  go  to  St.  Paul's 
on  New  Year's  day  to  hear  the  dean  preach  ;  and  he,  thinking 
to  gratify  her  on  that  day  with  an  elegant  and  appropriate  pre- 
sent, had  procured  some  prints  illustrative  of  the  histories  of  the 
saints  and  martyrs,  which  he  caused  to  be  inserted  in  a  richly 
bound  prayer-book  and  laid  on  the  queen's  cushion  for  her  use. 
Her  majesty  opened  the  volume;  but  no  sooner  did  the  prints  meet 
her  eye,  than  she  frowned,  blushed,  and  called  to  the  verger  to  bring 
her  the  book  she  was  accustomed  to  use.  As  soon  as  the  service 
was  ended,  she  went  into  the  vestry  and  inquired  of  the  dean 
who  had  brought  that  book  ?  and  when  he  explained  that  he  had 
meant  it  as  a  present  to  her  majesty,  she  chid  him  severely,  in- 
quired if  he  was  ignorant  of  her  proclamation  against  images, 
pictures,  and  Romish  reliques  in  the  churches,  and  of  her  aver- 
sion to  all  idolatry,  and  strictly  ordered  that  no  similar  mistake 
should  be  made  in  future.  What  renders  this  circumstance  the 
more  curious  is,  that  Elizabeth  at  this  very  time  kept  a  crucifix 
in  her  private  chapel,  and  that  Sampson  was  so  far  from  being  po- 
pishly  inclined,  that  he  had  refused  the  bishopric  of  Norwich  the 
year  before,  on  account  of  the  habits  and  ceremonies,  and  was 
afterwards  deprived  of  his  deanery  by  archbishop  Parker  for  non- 
conformity. 

Never  did  parties  in  religion  run  higher  than  about  this  period 
of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  we  may  remark  as  symptomatic 
of  the  temper  of  the  times,  the  manner  in  which  a  trivial  accident 
was  commented  upon  by  adverse  disputants.  The  beautiful  stee- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


17? 


of  St.  Paul's  cathedral,  the  loftiest  in  the  kingdom,  had  been 
stricken  by  lightning  and  utterly  destroyed,  together  with  the 
bells  and  root.  A  papist  immediately  dispersed  a  paper  repre- 
senting this  accident  as  a  judgment  or  Heaven  for  the  discontin- 
uance of  the  matins  and  oilier  services,  which  had  used  to  be 
performed  in  the  church  at  different  hours  of  the  day  and  night. 
Pilkiugton  bishop  of  Durham,  who  preached  at  Paul's  cross  alter 
the  accident,  was  equally  disposed  to  regard  it  as  a  judgment, 
but  on  the  sins  of  London  in  general,  and  particularly  on  certain 
abuses  by  which  the  church  had  formerly  been  polluted.  In  a 
tract  published  in  answer  to  that  of  the  papist  he  afterwards  gave 
an  animated  description  of  the  practices  of  which  this  cathedral 
had  been  the  theatre ;  curious  at  the  present  day  as  a  record  of 
forgotten  customs.  He  said  that  ",no  place  had  been  more  abused 
than  Paul's  had  been,  nor  more  against  the  receiving  of  Christ's 
Gospel ;  wherefore  it  was  more  wonder  that  God  had  spared  it 
so  long,  than  that  he  overthrew  it  now.  .  .  .  From  the  top  of  the 
spire,  at  coronations'  or  other  solemn  triumphs,  some  for  vain 
glory  had  used  to  throw  themselves  down  by  a  rope,  and  so  kill- 
ed themselves,  vainly  to  please  other  men's  eyes.  At  the 
battlements  of  the  steeple,  sundry  times  were  used  their  popish 
anthems,  to  call  upon  their  Gods,  with  torch  and  taper,  in 
the  evenings.  In  the  top  of  one  of  the  pinnacles  was  Lol- 
lards' Tower,  where  many  an  innocent  soul  had  been  by  them 
cruelly  tormented  and  murdered.  In  the  middest  alley  was  their 
long  censer,  reaching  from  the  roof  to  the  ground  ;  as  though  the 
Holy  Ghost  came  down  in  their  censing,  in  likeness  of  a  dove. 
In  the  arches,  men  commonly  complained  of  wrong  and  delayed 
judgments  in  ecclesiastical  causes  :  and  divers  had  been  con- 
demned there  by  Annas  and  Caiaphas  for  Christ's  cause.  Their 
images  hung  on  every  wall,  pillar  and  door,  with  their  pilgrim- 
ages and  worshipings  of  them :  passing  over  their  massing  and 
many  altars,  and  the  rest  of  their  popish  service.  The  south  al- 
ley was  for  usury  and  popery,  the  north  for  simony ;  and  the 
horse  fair  in  the  midst  for  all  kind  of  bargains,  meetings,  braw- 
lings,  murders,  conspiracies.  The  font  for  ordinary  payments  of 
money,  as  well  known  to  all  men  as  the  beggar  knows  his  dish. 
So  that  without  and  within,  above  the  ground  and  under,  over 
the  roof  and  beneath,  from  the  top  of  the  steeple  and  spire  down 
to  the  low  floor,  not  one  spot  was  free  from  wickedness. 

The  practice  here  alluded  to,  of  making  the  nave  of  St.  Paul's 
a  kind  of  exchange  for  the  transaction  of  all  kinds  of  business, 
and  a  place  of  meeting  for  idlers  of  every  sort,  is  frequently  re- 
ferred to  by  the  writers  of  this  and  the  two  succeeding  reigns  ; 
and  when  or  by  what  means  the  custom  was  put  an  end  to,  does 
not  appear.  It  was  here  that  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton  held  a 
conference  with  an  emissary  of  Wyat's  ;  it  was  here  that  one  of 
the  bravoes  engaged  in  the  noted  murder  of  Arden  of  Feversham 
was  hired.  It  was  in  Paul's  that  Falstafif  is  made  to  say  he 
"  bought"  Bardolph. 

In  bishop  Earl's  admirable  little  book  called  Microcosmogra- 

Z 


178 


THE  COURT  OF 


phy,  the  scene  is  described  with  all  the  wit  of  the  author,  ami 
somewhat  of  the  quaintness  ot  his  age,  which  was  that  of  James  I. 

"  PauVs  walk  is  the  land's  epitome,  or  you  may  call  it  the 
lesser  isle  of  Great  Britain.  It  is,  more  than  this,  the  whole  world's 
map,  which  you  may  here  discern  in  its  perfectest  motion,  just- 
ling,  and  turning.  It  is  the  great  exchange  of  all  discourse,  and 
no  business  whatsoever,  but  is  here  stirring  and  afoot.  It  is  the 
synod  of  all  pates  politic,  joined  and  laid  together  in  most  seri- 
ous posture,  and  they  are  not  half  so  busy  at  the  parliament.  .  . 
It  is  the  market  of  young  lecturers,  whom  you  may  cheapen  here 
at  all  rates  and  sizes.  It  is  the  general  mint  of  all  famous  lies, 
which  are  here,  like  the  legends  of  popery,  first  coined  and  stamp- 
ed in  the  church.  All  inventions  are  emptied  here,  and  not  a 
few  pockets.  The  best  sign  of  a  temple  in  it  is,  that  it  is  the 
thieves  sanctuary.  . .  .  The  visitants  are  all  men  without  excep- 
tion, but  the  principal  inhabitants  and  possessors  are  stale 
knights,  and  captains  out  of  service,  men  of  long  rapiers  and 
breeches  which,  after  all,  turn  merchants  here  and  traffic  for  news. 
Some  make  it  a  preface  to  their  dinner,  but  thriftier  men  make  it 
their  ordinary,  and  board  here  very  cheap." 

The  vigilant  ministers  of  Elizabeth  had  now  begun  to  alarm 
themselves  and  her  with  apprehensions  of  plots  against  her  life, 
from  the  malice  of  the  papists ;  and  it  would  be  rash  to  pronounce 
that  such  tears  were  entirely  void  of  foundation  ;  but  we  may  be 
permitted  to  smile  at  the  ignorant  credulity  on  the  subject  of 
poisons, — universal  indeed  in  that  age, — which  dictated  the  fol- 
lowing minute  of  council,  extant  in  the  hand  writing  of  Cecil. 
"  We  think  it  very  convenient  that  your  majesty's  apparel,  and 
specially  all  manner  of  things  that  shall  touch  any  part  of  your 
majesty's  body  bare,  be  circumspectly  looked  unto  ;  and  that  no 
person  be  permitted  to  come  near  it,  but  such  as  have  the  trust 
and  charge  thereof. 

"  Item.  That  no  manner  of  perfume  either  in  apparel  or  sleeves, 
gloves,  or  such  like,  or  otherwise  that  shall  be  appointed  for  your 
majesty's  savour,  be  presented  by  any  stranger  or  other  person, 
but  that  the  same  be  corrected  by  some  other  fume. 

"Item.  That  no  foreign  meat  or  dishes  being  dressed  out  of 
your  majesty's  court,  be  brought  to  your  food,  without  assured 
knowledge  from  whom  the  same  cometh  ;  and  that  no  use  be  had 
hereof. 

«  Item.  That  it  may  please  your  majesty  to  take  the  advise  of 
your  physician  for  the  receiving  weekly  twice  some  preservative 
c  contra  pestem  et  venena,'  as  there  be  many  good  things  *  et 
salutaria.' 

<{  Item.  It  may  please  your  majesty  to  give  order  who  shall 
take  the  charge  of  the  back  doors  to  your  chamberers  chambers, 
were  landresses,  tailors,  wardrobers,  and  the  like,  use  to  come  ; 
and  that  the  same  doors  be  duly  attended  upon,  as  becometh,  and 
not  to  stand  open  but  upon  necessity. 

"  Item.  That  the  privy  chamber  may  be  better  ordered,  with 
an  attendance  of  an  usher,  and  the  gentleman  and  grooms."* 

*  Bui-ieigli's  Papers,"  by  Hayries,  p.  38§„ 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


179 


It  was  fortunate  that  the  same  exaggerated  notions  of  the 
power  of  poisons  prevailed  amongst  papists  as  protestants. 
Against  the  ill  effects  of  a  drug  applied  by  direction  of  a  Spanish 
friar  to  the  arms  of  a  chair  and  the  pommel  of  a  saddle,  the  anti- 
doles  received  twice  a  week  might  be  depended  upon  as  an  ef- 
fectual preservative. 

From  these  perils,  real  and  imaginary, — none  of  which  how- 
ever appear  to  have  taken  strong  hold  of  the  cheerful  and  cou- 
rageous temper  of  the  queen, — her  attention  and  that  of  her 
council  was  for  some  time  diverted  by  the  expectation  of  a  royal 
suitor. 

Eric  king  of  Sweden, — whose  hopes  of  final  success  in  his 
addresses  were  kept  up  in  spite  of  the  repeated  denials  of  the 
queen,  by  the  artifice  of  some  Englishmen  at  his  court  who  de- 
luded him  by  pretended  secret  intelligence, — had  sent  to  her 
majesty  a  royal  present,  and  declared  his  intention  of  following 
in  person.  The  present  consisted  of  eighteen  large  piebald  horses, 
and  two  ship-loads  of  precious  articles  which  are  not  particu- 
larised. It  does  not  appear  that  this  offering  was  ill-received ; 
but  as  Elizabeth  was  determined  not  to  relent  in  favour  of  the 
sender,  she  caused  him  to  be  apprised  of  the  impositions  passed 
upon  him  by  the  English  to  whom  he  had  given  ear,  at  the  same 
time  expressing  her  anxious  hope  that  he  would  spare  himself 
the  fatigues  of  a  fruitless  voyage.  Fearing  however  that  he  might 
be  already  on  his  way,  she  occupied  herself  in  preparations  for 
receiving  him  with  all  the  hospitality  and  splendour  due  to  his 
errand,  his  rank  and  her  own  honour.  It  was  at  the  same  time 
a  business  of  some  perplexity  so  to  regulate  all  these  matters  of 
ceremony  that  neither  Eric  himself  nor  others  might  conclude 
that  he  was  a  favoured  suitor.  Among  the  state  papers  of  the 
time  we  find,  first  a  letter  of  council  to  the  lord  mayor,  setting 
forth,  that  "  AVhereas  certain  bookbinders  and  stationers  did 
utter  certain  papers  wherein  were  printed  the  face  of  her  majesty 
and  the  king  of  Sweden  ;  although  her  majesty  was  not  miscon- 
tented  that  either  her  own  face  or  that  of  this  king  should  be 
pourtrayed  ;  yet  to  be  joined  in  the  same  paper  with  him  or  any 
other  prince  who  was  known  to  have  made  request  for  marriage 
to  her,  was  what  she  could  not  allow.  Accordingly  it  was  her 
pleasure  that  the  lord  mayor  should  seize  all  such  papers,  and 
pack  them  up  so  that  none  of  them  should  get  abroad.  Other- 
wise she  might  seem  to  authorise  this  joining  of  herself  in  mar- 
riage to  him,  which  might  seem  to  touch  her  in  honour."  Next 
we  have  a  letter  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk  directing  the  manner  in 
which  he  should  go  to  meet  the  king,  if  he  landed  at  any  part 
of  Norfolk  or  auttblk  :  and  lastly,  we  have  the  solemn  judgment 
of  the  iord-treasurer,  the  lord-steward,  and  the  lord -chamberlain, 
on  the  ceremonial  to  be  observed  towards  him  on  his  arrival,  by 
the  queen  herself. 

One  paragraph  is  conceived  with  all  the  prudery  and  the  deep 
policy  about  trifles,  which  marked  the  character  of  Elizabeth 
herself.    "  Bycause  the  queen's  majesty  is  a  maid,  in  this  case 


180 


THE  COURT  OF 


would  many  things  be  omitted  of  honour  and  courtsey,  which 
otherwise  were  mete  to  be  showed  to  him,  as  in  like  cases  hath 
been  of  kings  of  this  land  to  others,  and  therefore  it  shall  be  neces- 
sary that  the  gravest  of  her  council  do,  as  of  their  own  judgment, 
excuse  the  lack  thereof  to  the  king  ;  and  yet  on  their  own  parts 
offer  the  supplement  thereof  with  reverence." 
After  all,  the  king  of  Sweden  never  came. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

1561  to  1565. 

Difficulties  respecting  the  succession. — Lady  C.  Grey  marries  Hie 
earl  of  Hertford. — Cruel  treatment  of  them  by  Elizabeth. — 
Conspiracy  of  the  Poles. — Law  against  prophecies.— -Sir  H. 
Sidney  ambassador  to  France. — Some  account  of  him. — De- 
fence of  Havre  under  the  earl  of  Warwick. — Its  surrender. — 
Proposed  interview  between  Elizabeth  and  Mary. — Plague  in 
London. — Studies  of  the  queen. — Proclamation  respecting  por- 
traits of  her. — Negotiations  concerning  the  marriage  of  Mary. 
— Elizabeth  proposes  to  her  lord  R.  Dudley. — Hales  punished 
for  defending  the  title  of  the  Suffolk  line. — Sir  N.  Bacon  and 
lord  J.  Grey  in  some  disgrace  on  the  same  account. — Queen7 s 
visit  to  Cambridge. — Dudley  created  earl  of  Leicester.— Notice 
of  sir  James  Melvil  and  extracts  from  his  memoirs. — -Marriage 
of  Mary  with  Darnley. — Conduct  of  Elizabeth  respecting  it. — 
She  encourages,  then  disavows  the  Scotch  malcontent  lords.— 
Behaviour  of  sir  N.  Throgmorton. — The  puritans  treated  with 
greater  lenity. 

The  situation  of  Elizabeth,  amid  its  many  difficulties,  pre- 
sented none,  so  perplexing,  none  which  the  opinions  of  her  most 
prudent  counsellors  were  so  much  divided  on  the  best  mode  of 
obviating,  as  those  arising  out  of  the  doubt  and  confusion  in 
which  the  right  of  succession  was  still  involved.  Her  avowed 
repugnance  to  marriage,  which  was  now  feared  to  be  insurmoun- 
table, kept  the  minds  of  men  continually  busy  on  this  dangerous 
topic,  and  she  was  already  incurring  the  blame  of  many  by  the 
backwardness  which  she  discovered  in  designating  a  successor 
and  causing  her  choice  to  be  confirmed,  as  it  would  readily  have 
been,  by  the  parliament. 

But  this  censure  must  be  regarded  as  unjust.  Even  though 
the  jealousy  of  power  had  found  no  entrance  into  the  bosom  of 
Elizabeth,  sound  policy  required  her  long  to  deliberate  before 
she  formed  a  decision,  and  perhaps,  whatever  that  decision  mighty 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 


181 


be,  forbade  her,  under  present  circumstances,  to  announce  it  to 
the  world. 

The  title  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  otherwise  unquestionable,  was 
barred  by  the  will  of  Henry  VIII.,  ratified  by  an  unrepealed  act  ot 
parliament,  and  nothing  less  solemn  than  a  fresh  act  of  the  whole 
legislature  would  have  been  sufficient  to  render  it  perfectly  free 
from  objection  :  and  could  Elizabeth  be  in  reason  expected  to 
take  such  a  step  in  behalf  of  a  foreign  and  rival  sovereign,  pro- 
fessing a  religion  hostile  to  her  own  and  that  of  her  people  ;  of 
one,  above  all,  who  had  openly  pretended  a  right  to  the  crown 
preferable  to  her  own,  and  who  was  even  now  exhausting  the 
whole  art  of  intrigue  to  undermine  and  supplant  her? 

On  the  other  hand,  to  confirm  the  exclusion  of  the  Scottish 
line,  and  adopt  as  her  successor  the  representative  of  that  ot 
Suffolk,  appeared  neither  safe  nor  equitable. 

The  testamentary  disposition  of  Henry  had  evidently  been  dic- 
tated by  caprice  and  resentment,  and  the  title  of  Mary  was  never- 
theless held  sacred  and  indisputable  not  only  by  all  the  catholics, 
but  by  the  partisans  of  strict  hereditary  right  in  general,  and  by  all 
who  duly  appreciated  the  benefits  which  must  flow  from  an  union 
of  the  English  and  Scottish  sceptres.  To  inflict  a  mortal  injury 
on  Mary  might  be  as  dangerous  as  to  give  her  importance  by  an 
express  law  establishing  her  claims,  and  against  any  perils  in 
which  Elizabeth  might  thus  involve  herself,  the  house  of  Suffolk 
could  afford  her  no  accession  of  strength,  since  their  allegiance, 
— all  they  had  to  offer, — was  hers  already. 

The  lady  Catherine  Grey,  the  heiress  of  this  house,  might  in- 
deed have  been  united  in  marriage  to  some  protestant  prince, 
whose  power  would  have  acted  as  a  counterpoise  to  that  of  Scot- 
land. But  a  secret  and  reluctant  persuasion  that  the  real  right 
was  with  the  Scottish  line,  constantly  operated  on  the  mind  of 
Elizabeth  so  far  as  to  prevent  her  from  taking  any  step  toward* 
the  advancement  of  the  rival  family;  and  the  unfortunate  lady 
Catherine  was  doomed  to  undergo  all  the  restraints,  the  perse- 
cutions, and  the  sufferings,  which  in  that  age  formed  the  melan- 
choly appanage  of  the  younger  branches  of  the  royal  race,  with 
little  participation  of  the  homage  or  the  hopes  which  some  minds 
would  have  accepted  as  an  adequate  compensation. 

It  will  be  remembered,  that  the  hand  of  this  high-born  lady 
was  given  to  lord  Herbert,  son  of  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  on  the 
same  day  that  Guildford  Dudley  fatally  received  that  of  her 
elder  sister  the  lady  Jane ;  and  that  on  the  accession  of  Mary, 
this  short-lived  and  perhaps  uncompleted  union  had  been 
dissolved  at  the  instance  of  the  politic  father  of  lord  Herbert. 
From,  this  time  lady  Catherine  had  remained  in  neglect  and  ob- 
scurity till  the  year  1560,  when  information  of  her  having  formed 
a  private  connexion  with  the  earl  of  Hertford,  son  of  the  Pro- 
tector Somerset,  reached  the  ears  of  Elizabeth.  The  lady,  on 
being  questioned,  confessed  her  pregnancy,  declaring  herself  at 
the  same  time  to  be  the  lawful  wife  of  the  earl :  her  degree  of 
relationship  to  the  queen  was  not  so  near  as  to  render  her  mar 


18r2 


THE  COURT  OF 


riage  without  the  royal  consent  illegal,  yet  by  a  stretch  of  autho- 
rity familiar  to  the  Tudors  she  was  immediately  sent  prisoner  to 
the  Tower.  Hertford,  in  the  mean  time,  was  summoned  to  pro- 
duce evidence  of  the  marriage,  by  a  certain  day,  before  special 
commissioners  named  by  her  majesty,  from  whose  decision  no 
appeal  was  to  lie.  He  was  at  this  time  in  France,  and  so  early 
a  day  was  designedly  fixed  for  his  answer,  that  he  found  it  im- 
practicable to  collect  his  proofs  in  time,  and  to  the  Tower  he 
also  was  committed,  as  the  seducer  of  a  maiden  of  royal  blood. 

By  this  iniquitous  sentence,  a  colour  was  given  for  treating 
the  unfortunate  lady  and  those  who  had  been  in  her  confidence 
with  every  species  of  harshness  and  indignity,  and  the  following 
extract  from  a  warrant  addressed  in  the  name  of  her  majesty  to 
Mr.  Warner,  lieutenant  of  the  tower,  sufficiently  indicates  the 
cruel  advantage  taken  of  her  situation. 

....  "  Our  pleasure  is,  that  ye  shall,  as  by  our  command- 
ment, examine  the  lady  Catherine  very  straightly,  how  many 
hath  been  privy  to  the  love  between  her  and  the  earl  of  Hert- 
ford from  the  beginning ;  and  let  her  certainly  understand  that 
she  shall  have  no  manner  of  favour  except  she  will  show  the 
truth,  not  only  what  ladies  or  gentlewomen  of  this  court  were 
thereto  privy,  but  also  what  lords  and  gentlemen :  For  it  doth 
now  appear  that  sundry  personages  have  dealt  herein,  and  when 
it  shall  appear  more  manifestly,  it  shall  increase  our  indignation 
against  her  if  she  will  forbear  to  utter  it. 

"  We  earnestly  require  you  to  use  your  diligence  in  this.  Ye 
shall  also  send  to  alderman  Ljodge  secretly  for  St.  Low,  and 
shall  put  her  in  awe  of  divers  matters  confessed  by  the  lady  Ca- 
therine ;  and  so  also  deal  with  her  that  she  may  confess  to  you 
all  her  knowledge  in  the  same  matters.  It  is  certain  that  there 
hath  been  great  practices  and  purposes ;  and  since  the  death  of 
*he  lady  Jane  she  hath  been  most  privy.  And  as  ye  shall  see 
occasion,  so  ye  may  keep  St.  Low  two  or  three  nights  more  or 
less,  and  let  her  be  returned  to  Lodge's  or  kept  still  with  you 
as  ye  shall  think  meet."*  &c. 

The  child  of  which  the  Countess  of  Hertford  was  delivered- 
soon  after  her  committal,  was  regarded  as  illegitimate,  and  she 
was  doomed  to  expiate  her  pretended  misconduct  by  a  further 
imprisonment  at  the  arbitrary  pleasure  of  the  queen.  The  birth 
of  a  second  child,  the  fruit  of  stolen  meetings  between  the  cap- 
tive pair,  aggravated  in  the  jealous  eyes  of  Elizabeth  their  common 
guilt.  Warner  lost  his  place  for  permitting  or  conniving  at 
their  interviews,  and  Hertford  was  sentenced  in  the  Star-chamber 
to  a  fine  of  fifteen  thousand  pounds  for  the  double  offence  of 
vitiating  a  female  of  the  royal  blood,  and  of  breaking  his  prison 
to  renew  his  offence. 

It  might  somewhat  console  this  persecuted  pair  under  all  their 
sufferings,  to  learn  how  unanimously  the  public  voice  was  in  their 
favour.    No  one  doubted  that  they  were  lawfully  married, — a 


*  '«  Burleigh  Papers,"  by  Haynes. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


185 


r.-u  i  which  was  afterwards  fully  established, — and  it  was  asked, 
by  what  right,  or  on  what  principle,  her  majesty  presumed  to 
keep  asunder  those  whom  God  had  joined?  Words  ran  so  high 
on  (his  subject  after  the  sentence  of  the  Star-chamber,  that  some 
alarmists  in  (he  privy-council  urged  the  necessity  of  inflicting 
still  severer  punishment  on  the  earl,  and  of  intimidating  the  talk- 
ers by  strong  measures.  The  further  consequences  of  this  affair 
to  persons  high  in  her  majesty's  confidence  will  be  related  here- 
after: meantime  it  must  be  recorded,  to  the  eternal  disgrace  of 
Elizabeth's  character  and  government,  that  she  barbarously  and 
illegally  detained  her  ill-fated  kinswoman,  first  in  the  Tower, 
and  afterwards  in  private  custody,  till  the  day  of  her  death  in 
January  1567;  and  that  the  earl  her  husband,  having  added  to 
the  original  offence  of  marrying  a  princess,  the  further  presump- 
tion of  placing  upon  legal  record  the  proofs  of  his  children's  le- 
gitimacy, was  punished,  besides  his  fine,  with  an  imprisonment 
of  nine  whole  years.  So  much  of  the  jealous  spirit  of  her  grand- 
father still  survived  in  the  bosom  of  this  last  of  the  Tudors  ! 

On  another  occasion,  however,  she  exercised  towards  a  family 
whose  pretensions  had  been  viewed  by  her  father  with  peculiar 
dread  and  hostility,  a  degree  of  forbearance  which  had  in  it  some- 
what of  magnanimity. 

Arthur  and  Edmund  Pole,  two  nephews  of  the  cardinal,  with 
sir  Anthony  Fortescue  their  sister's  husband,  and  other  accom- 
plices, had  been  led,  either  by  private  ambition,  by  a  vehement 
zeal  for  the  Romish  faith,  or  both  together,  to  meditate  the  sub- 
version of  the  existing  state  of  things,  and  to  plan  the  following 
wild  and  desperate  scheme. 

Having  first  repaired  to  France  where  they  expected  to  re- 
ceive aid  and  counsels  from  the  Guises,  the  conspirators  were  to 
return  at  the  head  of  an  army  and  make  a  landing  in  Wales. 
Here  Arthur  Pole,  assuming  at  the  same  time  the  title  of  duke 
of  Clarence,  was  to  proclaim  the  queen  of  Scots,  and  the  new  so- 
vereign was  soon  after  to  give  her  hand  to  his  brother  Edmund. 
This  absurd  plot  was  detected  before  any  steps  were  taken  to- 
wards its  execution :  the  Poles  were  apprehended,  and  made  a 
full  disclosure  on  their  trial  of  all  its  circumstances  ;  pleading 
however  in  excuse,  that  they  had  no  thought  of  putting  their  de- 
sign in  practice  till  the  death  of  the  queen,  an  event  which  cer- 
tain diviners  in  whom  they  placed  reliance  had  confidently  pre- 
dicted within  the  year. 

In  consideration  of  this  confession,  and  probably  of  the  insig- 
nificance of  the  offenders,  the  royal  pardon  was  extended  to  their 
lives,  and  the  illustrious  name  of  Pole  was  thus  preserved  from 
extinction.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  they  were  kept  for  some 
time  prisoners  in  the  Tower  ;  and  thither  was  also  sent  the  coun- 
tess of  Lenox,  on  discovery  of  the  secret  correspondence  which 
she  carried  on  with  the  queen  of  Scots. 

The  confession  of  the  Poles  seems  to  have  given  occasion  to 
the  renewal,  by  the  parliament  of  1562,  of  a  law  against  "fond 
and  fantastical  prophecies,"  promulgated  with  design  to  disturb 


184 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  queen's  government ;  by  which  act  also  it  was  especially  for- 
bidden to  make  prognostications  on  or  by  occasion  of  any  coats 
of  arms,  crests,  or  badges ;  a  clause  added,  it  is  believed,  for  the 
particular  protection  of  the  favourite,  Dudley,  whose  bear  and 
ragged  staff,  was  the  continual  subject  of  open  derision  or  emble- 
matical satire. 

A  legend  in  the  "  Mirror  for  Magistrates,"  relating  the  unhap- 
py catastrophe  of  George  duke  of  Clarence,  occasioned  by  a  pro- 
phecy against  one  whose  name  began  with  a  G,  appears  to  have 
been  composed  in  aid  of  the  operation  of  this  law.  The  author 
takes  great  pains  to  impress  his  readers  with  the  futility  as 
well  as  wickedness  of  such  predictions,  and  concludes  with  the 
remark,  that  no  one  ought  to  imagine  the  foolish  and  malicious 
inventors  of  modern  prophecies  inspired,  though 

. . . .  "  learned  Merlin  whom  God  gave  the  sprite 

To  know  and  utter  princes'  acts  to  come, 

Like  to  the  Jewish  prophets  did  recite 

In  shade  of  beasts  their  doings  all  and  some  ; 

Expressing  plain  by  manners  of  the  doom 

That  kings  and  lords  such  properties  should  have 

As  have  the  beasts  whose  name  he  to  them  gave  !" 

In  France  every  thing  now  wore  the  aspect  of  an  approaching 
civil  war  between  the  partisans  of  the  two  religions,  under  the 
conduct  on  one  side  of  the  Guises,  on  the  other  of  the  princes  of 
the  house  of  Conde.  Elizabeth  judged  it  her  duty,  or  her  poli- 
cy, to  make  a  last  effort  for  the  reconciliation  of  these  angry  fac- 
tions, and  she  dispatched  an  ambassador  to  Charles  IX.,  charged 
with  her  earnest  representations  on  the  subject.  They  were  how- 
ever ineffectual,  and  produced  apparently  no  other  valuable  re- 
sult than  that  of  rendering  her  majesty  better  acquainted  with 
the  talents  and  merit  of  the  eminent  person  whom  she  had  honour- 
ed with  this  delicate  commission. 

This  person  was  sir  Henry  Sidney,  one  of  the  most  upright  as 
well  as  able  of  the  ministers  of  Elizabeth  : — that  he  was  the  fa- 
ther of  sir  Philip  Sidney  was  the  least  of  his  praises  ;  and  it  may 
be  cited  as  one  of  the  caprices  of  fame,  that  he  should  be  remem- 
bered by  his  son,  rather  than  his  son  by  him.  Those  qualities 
which  in  sir  Philip  could  afford  little  but  the  promise  of  active 
virtue,  were  brought  in  sir  Henry  to  the  test  of  actual  perform- 
ance ;  and  lasting  monuments  of  his  wisdom  and  his  goodness  re- 
main in  the  institutions  by  which  he  softened  the  barbarism  of 
Wales,  and  appeased  the  more  dangerous  turbulence  0/  Ireland 
by  promoting  its  civilisation. 

Sir  Henry  was  the  son  of  sir  William  Sidney,  a  gentleman  of 
good  parentage  in  Kent,  whose  mother  was  of  the  family  of  Bran- 
don and  nearly  related  to  the  duke  of  Suffolk  of  that  name,  the 
favourite  and  brother-in-law  of  Henry  VIII.  Sir  William  in 
his  youth  had  made  one  of  a  band  of  gentlemen  of  figure,  who, 
with  their  sovereign's  approbation,  travelled  into  Spain  and  other 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


185 


countries  of  Europe  to  study  the  manners  and  customs  of  their 
respective  courts.  He  likewise  distinguished  himself  in  the  field 
of  Flodden.  The  king  stood  godfather  to  his  son  Henry,  born 
in  1529,  and  caused  him  to  be  educated  with  the  prince  of 
Wftles,  to  whom  sir  William  was  appointed  tutor,  chamberlain, 
;ui(l  steward. 

The  excellent  qualities  and  agreeable  talents  of  young  Sidney 
soon  endeared  him  to  Edward,  who  made  him  his  inseparable 
companion,  and  often  his  beij-fellow  ;  kept  him  in  close  attend- 
ance on  his  person  during  his  long  decline,  and  sealed  his  friend- 
ship by  breathing  his  last  in  his  arms. 

During  the  short  reign  of  this  lamented  prince,  Sidney  had  re- 
ceived the  honour  of  knighthood,  and  had  been  intrusted,  at  the 
early  age  of  one  or  two-and -twenty,  with  an  embassy  to  the 
French  king,  in  which  he  acquitted  himself  so  ably  that  he  was 
soon  afterwards  sent  in  a  diplomatic  character  to  Scotland.  He 
had  likewise  formed  connections  which  exerted  important  influ- 
ence on  his  after  fortunes.  Sir  John  Cheke  held  him  in  particular 
esteem,  and  through  his  means  he  had  contracted  a  cordial 
friendship  with  Cecil,  of  which,  in  various  ways,  he  found  the 
benefit  to  the  end  of  his  life.  A  daughter  of  the  all-powerful 
duke  of  Northumberland  had  also  honoured  him  with  her  hand, 
— a  dangerous  gift,  which  was  likely  to  have  involved  him  in  the 
ruin  which  the  guilty  projects  of  that  audacious  man  drew  down 
upon  the  heads  of  himself  and  his  family.  But  the  prudence  or 
loyalty  of  Sidney  preserved  him  from  the  snare.  No  sooner  had 
his  royal  master  breathed  his  last,  than,  relinquishing  all  concern 
in  public  affairs,  he  withdrew  to  the  safe  retirement  of  his  own 
seat  at  Penshurst,  where  he  afterwards  afforded  a  generous  asy- 
lum to  such  of  the  Dudley's  as  had  escaped  death  or  imprison- 
ment. 

Queen  Mary  seems  to  have  held  out  an  earnest  of  future  favour- 
to  Sidney,  by  naming  him  amongst  the  noblemen  and  knights  ap- 
pointed to  attend  Philip  of  Spain  to  England  for  the  completion 
of  his  nuptials  ;  and  this  prince  further  honoured  him  by  becom- 
ing sponsor  to  his  afterwards  celebrated  son,  and  giving  him  his 
own  name.  But  Sidney  soon  quitted  a  court  in  which  a  man  of 
protestant  principles  could  no  longer  reside  with  satisfaction,  if 
with  safety,  and  accompanied  to  Ireland  his  brother-in-law  vis- 
count Fitz waiter,  then  lord -deputy.  In  that  kingdom,  he  at  first 
bore  the  office  of  vice-treasurer,  and  afterwards,  during  the  fre- 
qu'ent  absences  of  the  lord-deputy,  the  high  one  of  sole  lord- 
justice. 

The  accession  of  Elizabeth  enabled  lord  Robert  Dudley  to 
make  a  large  return  for  the  former  kindness  of  his  brother-in- 
law  ;  and  supported  by  the  influence  of  this  distinguished  fav- 
ourite, in  addition  to  his  personal  claims,  sir  Henry  Sidney  rose 
in  a  few  years  to  the  dignities  of  privy-councillor  and  knight  of 
the  garter.  After  his  embassy  to  France,  he  was  appointed  to 
the  post  of  lord-president  of  Wales,  to  which,  in  1565,  the  still 
more  important  one  of  lord-deputy  of  Ireland  was  added  ; — an 

\  a 


.186 


THE  COURT  OF 


union  of  t\yo  not  very  compatible  offices,  unexampled  in  our  annals 
before  or  since.  Some  particulars  of  sir  Henry  Sidney's  government 
of  Ireland  may  come  under  review  hereafter:  it  is  sufficient  here 
to  observe,  that  ample  testimony  to  his  merit  was  furnished  by 
Elizabeth  herself,  in  the  steadiness  with  which  she  persisted  in 
appointing  and  re-appointing  him  to  this  most  perplexing  de- 
partment of  public  service,  in  spite  of  all  the  cabals,  of  English 
or  Irish  growth,  by  which,  though  his  favour  with  her  was  some- 
times shaken,  her  rooted  opinion  of  his  probity  and  sufficiency 
could  never  be  overthrown. 

The  failure  of  Elizabeth's  negotiations  with  the  French  court, 
was  followed  by  her  taking  up  arms  in  support  of  the  oppressed 
Hugonots  ;  and  Ambrose  Dudley,  earl  of  Warwick,  the  elder 
brother  of  lord  Robert,  was  sent  to  Normandy  at  the  head  of 
three  thousand  men.  Of  the  two  Dudley's  it  was  said  by  their 
contemporaries,  that  the  elder  inherited  the  money,  and  the 
younger  the  wit,  of  his  father.  If  this  remark  were  well  found- 
ed, which  seems  doubtful,  the  appointment  of  Warwick  to  an 
important  command  must  probably  be  set  down  to  the  account 
of  favouritism.  It  was  not,  however,  the  wish  of  the  queen  that 
her  troops  should  often  be  led  into  battle.  It  was  her  main  ob- 
ject to  obtain  lasting  possession  of  the  town  of  Havre,  as  an  in- 
demnification for  the  loss  of  Calais,  so  much  deplored  by  the 
nation ;  and  into  this  place  Warwick  threw  himself  with  his 
chief  force.  In  the  next  campaign,  when  it  was  assailed  by  the 
whole  power  of  France,  he  prepared,  according  to  the  orders  of 
Elizabeth,  for  a  desperate  defence,  and  no  blame  was  ever  im- 
puted to  him  for  a  surrender,  which  became  unavoidable  through 
the  ravages  of  the  plague,  and  the  delay  of  reinforcements  by 
contrary  winds.*  Warwick  appears  to  have  preserved  through, 
life  the  character  of  a  man  of  honour  and  a  brave  soldier. 

A  project  which  had  been  for  some  time  under  discussion,  of 
a  personal  interview  at  York  between  the  English  and  Scottish 
queens,  was  now  finally  given  up.  Elizabeth,  it  is  surmised,  was 
unwilling  to  afford  her  beautiful  and  captivating  enemy  such  an 
opportunity  of  winning  upon  the  affections  of  the  English  peo- 
ple, and  Mary  was  fearful  of  offending  her  uncles  the  princes  of 
Guise  by  so  public  an  advance  towards  a  good  understanding 
with  a  princess  now  engaged  in  open  hostilities  against  their 
country  and  faction.    The  failure  ot  this  design  deserves  not  to 

*  It  was  by  no  remissness  on  the  part  of  the  queen  that  this  town  was  lost;  the 
preservation  of  which  was  an  object  very  near  her  heart,  as  appears  from  a  letter  of 
encouragement  addressed  hy  the  privy-council  to  Warwick,  which  has  the  follow- 
ing postscript  in  her  own  hand-writing. 

"  My  dear  Warwick  :  If  your  honour  and  my  desire  could  accord  with  the  loss  of 
the  needfullest  fingtr  I  keep,  God  so  help  me  in  my  utmost  need  as  I  would  gladly 
lose  that  one  joint  for  your  safe  abode  with  me;  but  since  1  cannot  that  I  would,  I 
w  ill  do  that  I  may, and  will  rather  drink  in  an  ashen  cup  than  you  or  yours  should 
not  be  succour' d  both  by  sea  and  laud,  yea,  and  that  with  ail  speed  possible, and  let 
this  my  scribbling  hand  witness  it  to  them  all. 

"  Yours  as  my  own, 

"  E.  R." 

See  t(  Archseologia,"  vol.  xiii.  p.  201. 


QUEEN  ELtZA  BETH. 


187 


be  regretted.  The  meetings  of  princes  have  never,  under  any 
circumstances,  been  known  to  produce  a  valuable  political  re 
suit;  and  an  interview  between  these  jealous  and  exasperated 
rivals  could  only  have  exhibited  disgusting  scenes  of  forced  civi- 
lity and  exaggerated  profession,  thinly  veiling  the  inveterate ani 
mosity  which  neither  party  could  hope  effectually  to  hide  from 
the  intuitive  perception  of  the  other. 

A  terrible  plague,  introduced  by  the  return  of  the  sickly  gar- 
rison of  Havre,  raged  in  London  during  the  year  1563,  and,  for 
some  time  carried  off  about  a  thousand  persons  weekly.  The 
sittings  of  parliament  were  held  on  this  account  at  Hertford  Cas- 
tle ;  and  the  queen,  retiring  to  Windsor,  kept  herself  in  unusual 
privacy,  and  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  pursue  her 
literary  occupations  with  more  than  common  assiduity.  Without 
entirely  deserting  her  favourite  Greek  classics,  she  at  this  time 
applied  herself  principally  to  the  study  of  the  Christian  fathers, 
with  the  laudable  purpose,  doubtless,  of  making  herself  mistress 
of  those  questions  respecting  the  doctrine  and  discipline  of  the 
primitive  church  now  so  fiercely  agitated  between  the  divines 
of  different  communions,  and  on  which,  as  head  of  the  English 
church,  she  was  often  called  upon  to  decide  in  the  last  resort. 

Cecil  had  mentioned  these  pursuits  of  her  majesty  in  a  letter 
to  Cox  bishop  of  Ely,  and  certainly  as  matter  of  high  commenda- 
tion ;  but  the  bishop  answered,  perhaps  with  better  judgment, 
that  after  all,  Scripture  was  "  that  which  pierced that  of  the 
fathers,  one  was  inclined  to  Pelagianism,  another  to  Monachism, 
and  he  hoped  that  her  majesty  only  occupied  herself  with  them 
at  idle  hours. 

Even  studies  so  solemn  could  not  however  preserve  the  royal 
theologian,  now  in  her  thirtieth  year,  from  serious  disturbance 
on  account  of  certain  ill-favoured  likenesses  of  her  gracious 
countenance  which  had  obtained  a  general  circulation  among 
her  loving  subjects.  So  provoking  an  abuse  was  thought  to 
justify  and  require  the  special  exertion  of  the  royal  prerogative 
for  its  correction,  and  Cecil  was  directed  to  draw  up  an  energetic 
proclamation  on  the  subject. 

This  curious  document  sets  forth,  that  "  forasmuch  as  through 
the  natural  desire  that  all  sorts  of  subjects  had  to  procure  the 
portrait  and  likeness  of  the  queen's  majesty,  great  numbers  of 
painters,  and  some  printers  and  gravers,  had  and  did  daily 
attempt  in  divers  manners  to  make  portraitures  of  her,  wherein 
none  hitherto  had  sufficiently  expressed  the  natural  representa- 
tion of  her  majesty's  person,  favour,  or  grace  ;  but  had  for  the 
most  part  erred  therein,  whereof  daily  complaints  were  made 
amongst  her  loving  subjects, — that  for  the  redress  hereof  her 
majesty  had  been  so  importunately  sued  unto  by  the  lords  of  her 
council  and  other  of  her  nobility,  not  only  to  be  content  that 
some  special  cunning  painter  might  be  permitted  by  access  to 
her  majesty  to  take  the  natural  representation  of  her,  whereof 
she  had  been  always  of  her  own  right  disposition  very  unwilling, 
but  also  to  prohibit  all  manner  of  other  persons  to  draw,  paint, 


188 


THE  COURT  OF 


grave,  or  portrait  her  personage  or  visage  for  a  time,  until  there 
were  some  perfect  pattern  or  example  to  be  followed. 

"  Therefore  her  majesty,  being  herein  as  it  were  overcome 
with  the  continual  requests  of  so  many  of  her  nobility  and  lords, 
whom  she  could  not  well  deny,  was  pleased  that  some  cunning 
person  should  shortly  make  a  portrait  of  her  person  or  visage  to 
be  participated  to  others  for  the  comfort  of  her  loving  subjects; 
and  furthermore  commanded,  that  till  this  should  be  finished, 
all  other  persons  should  abstain  from  making  any  representations 
of  her;  that  afterwards  her  majesty  would  be  content  that  all 
other  painters,  printers,  or  gravers,  that  should  be  known  men 
of  understanding,  and  so  therein  licensed  by  the  head  officers  of 
the  places  where  they  should  dwell  (as  reason  it  was  that  every 
person  should  not  without  consideration  attempt  the  same,) 
might  at  their  pleasure  follow  the  said  pattern  or  first  portraiture. 
And  for  that  her  majesty  perceived  a  great  number  of  her  loving 
subjects  to  be  much  grieved  with  the  errors  and  deformities 
herein  committed,  she  straightly  charged  her  officers  and  minis- 
ters to  see  to  the  observation  of  this  proclamation,  and  in  the 
meantime  to  forbid  the  showing  or  publication  of  such  as  were 
apparently  deformed,  until  they  should  be  reformed  which  were 
reformable."* 

On  the  subject  of  marriage,  so  perpetually  moved  to  her  both 
by  her  parliament  and  by  foreign  princes,  Elizabeth  still  pre- 
served a  cautious  ambiguity  of  language,  well  exemplified  in  the 
following  passage  :  "  The  duke  of  Wirtemberg,  a  German  protes- 
tant  prince,  had  lately  friendly  offered  his  service  to  the  queen, 
in  case  she  were  minded  to  marry.  To  which,  January  27th  she 
gave  him  this  courteous  and  princely  answer:  "  That  although 
she  never  yet  were  weary  of  single  and  maiden  life,  yet  indeed 
she  was  the  last  issue  of  her  father  left,  and  the  only  of  her  house ; 
the  care  of  her  kingdom  and  the  love  of  posterity  did  counsel 
her  to  alter  this  course  of  life.  But  in  consideration  of  the  leave 
that  her  subjects  had  given  her  in  ampler  manner  to  make  her 
choice  than  they  did  to  any  prince  afore,  she  was  even  in  cour- 
tesy bound  to  make  that  choice  so  as  should  be  for  the  best  of 
her  state  and  subjects.  And  for  that  he  offered  therein  his  as- 
sistance, she  graciously  acknowledged  the  same,  promising  to 
deserve  it  hereafterV't 

It  might  be  curious  to  inquire  of  what  nature  the  assistance 
politely  proffered  by  the  duke  in  this  matter,  and  thus  favourably 
received  by  her  majesty,  could  be;  it  does  not  appear  that  he 
tendered  his  own  hand  to  her  acceptance. 

The  French  court  became  solicitous  about  this  time  to  draw 
closer  its  bond  of  amity  with  the  queen  of  Scots,  who,  partly  on 
account  of  some  wrong  which  had  been  done  her  respecting  the 
payment  of  her  dower,  partly  in  consequence  of  various  affronts 
put  upon  her  subjects,  had  begun  to  estrange  herself  from  her 
old  connexions,  and  to  seek  in  preference  the  alliance  of  Eliza- 


'.*  Archseologia,"  vol.  ii.  p.  169. 


f  Strype's  "  Annals,"  vol.  i.  p.  398. 


QI.JKEN  ELIZABETH. 


189 


beta.  French  agents  were  now  sent  over  to  Scotland  to  urge 
upon  her  the  claims  of  former  friendship,  and  to  tempt  her  by 
brilliant  promises  to  listen  to  proposals  of  marriage  from  the 
duke  of  Anjou,  preferably  to  those  made  her  by  the  archduke 
Charles  or  by  don  Carlos. 

Intelligence  of  these  negotiations  awakened  all  the  jealousies, 
political  and  personal,  of  Elizabeth.  She  ordered  her  agent 
Randolph,  a  practised  intriguer,  to  devise  means  for  crossing 
the  matrimonial  project.  Meantime,  by  way  of  intimidation,  she 
appointed  the  earl  of  Bedford  to  the  lieutenancy  of  the  four 
northern  counties,  and  the  powerful  earl  of  Shrewsbury  to  that 
of  several  adjoining  ones,  and  ordered  a  considerable  levy  of 
troops  in  these  pants  for  the  reinforcemeut  of  the  garrison  of 
Berwick  and  the  protection  of  the  English  border,  on  which  she 
affected  to  dread  an  attack  by  an  united  French  and  Scottish 
force. 

Randolph  soon  after  received  instructions  to  express  openly 
to  Mary  his  sovereign's  dislike  of  her  matching  either  with  the 
archduke  or  with  any  other  foreign  prince,  and  her  wish  that 
she  would  choose  a  husband  within  the  island ;  and  he  was  next 
empowered  to  add,  that  if  the  Scottish  queen  would  gratify  his 
mistress  in  this  point,  she  need  not  doubt  of  obtaining  a  public 
recognition  of  her  right  of  succession  to  the  English  crown.  Eli- 
zabeth afterwards  came  nearer  to  the  point ;  she  designated  lord 
Robert  Dudley  as  the  individual  on  whom  she  desired  that  the 
choice  of  her  royal  kinswoman  should  fall.  By  a  queen-dow- 
ager of  France,  and  a  queen-regnant  of  Scotland,  the  proposal  of 
so  inferior  an  alliance  might  almost  be  regarded  as  an  insult, 
and  Mary  was  naturally  haughty;  but  her  hopes  and  fears  com- 
pelled her  to  dissemble  her  indignation,  and  even  to  affect  to 
take  the  matter  into  consideration.  She  trusted  that  pretexts 
might  be  found  hereafter  for  evading  the  completion  of  the  mar- 
riage, even  if  the  queen  of  England  were  sincere  in  desiring  such 
an  advancement  for  her  favourite,  which  was  much  doubted,  and 
she  determined  for  the  present  to  show  herself  docile  to  all  the 
suggestions  of  her  royal  sister,  and  to  preserve  the  good  under- 
standing on  her  part  unbroken. 

It  was  during  the  continuance  of  this  state  of  apparent  amity 
between  the  rival  queens,  that  Elizabeth  thought  proper  to  visit 
with  tokens  of  her  displeasure  the  leaders  in  an  attempt  to  esta- 
blish the  title  of  the  Suffolk  line,  which  still  found  adherents  of 
some  importance. 

John  Hales,  clerk  of  the  hanaper,  a  learned  and  able  man,  and, 
like  all  who  espoused  this  party,  a  zealous  protestant,  had  writ- 
ten, and  secretly  circulated,  a  book  in  defence  of  the  claims  of 
the  lady  Catherine,  and  he  had  also  procured  opinions  of  foreign 
lawyers  in  favour  of  the  validity  of  her  marriage.  For  one  or 
both  of  these  offences  he  was  committed  to  the  Fleet  prison,  and 
the  secretary  was  soon  after  commanded  to  examine  thoroughly 
into  the  business,  and  learn  to  whom  Hales  had  communicated 
his  work.    A  more  disagreeable  task  could  scarcely  have  been 


190 


THE  COURT  OF 


imposed  upon  Cecil ;  for,  besides  that  he  must  probably  have  been 
aware  that  his  friend  and  brother-in-law  sir  Nicholas  Bacon  was 
implicated,  it  seems  that  he  himself  was  not  entirely  free  from 
suspicion  of  some  participation  in  the  affair.  But  he  readily  ac- 
knowledged his  duty  to  the  queen  to  be  a  paramount  obligation 
to  all  others,  and  he  wrote  to  a  friend  that  he  was  determined  to 
proceed  with  perfect  impartiality. 

In  conclusion,  Hales  was  liberated  after  half  a  year's  impri- 
sonment. Bacon,  the  lord  keeper,  who  appeared  to  have  seen 
the  book,  and  either  to  have  approved  it,  or  at  least  to  have 
taken  no  measures  for  its  suppression  or  the  punishment  of  its 
author,  was  not  removed  from  his  office  ;  but  he  was  ordered  to 
confine  himself  strictly  to  its  duties,  and  to  abstain  henceforth 
from  taking  any  part  in  political  business.  But  by  this  prohibi- 
tion Cecil  affirmed  that  public  business  suffered  essentially,  for 
Bacon  had  previously  discharged  with  distinguished  ability  the 
functions  of  a  minister  of  state ;  and  he  never  desisted  from 
intercession  with  her  majesty  till  he  saw  his  friend  fully  rein- 
stated in  her  favour.  Lord  John  Grey  of  Pyrgo,  uncle  to  lady 
Catherine,  had  been  a  principal  agent  in  this  business,  and  after 
several  examinations  by  members  of  the  privy-council,  he  was 
committed  to  a  kind  of  honourable  custody,  in  which  he  appears 
to  have  remained  till  his  death,  which  took  place  a  few  months 
afterwards.  These  punishments  were  slight  compared  with  the 
customary  severity  of  the  age  ;  and  it  has  plausibly  been  con- 
jectured that  the  anger  of  Elizabeth  on  this  occasion  was  rather 
feigned  than  real,  and  that  although  she  thought  proper  openly 
to  resent  any  attempt  injurious  to  the  title  of  the  queen  of  Scots, 
she  was  secretly  not  displeased  to  let  this  princess  perceive  that 
she  must  still  depend  on  her  friendship  for  its  authentic  and  una- 
nimous recognition. 

Her  anger  against  the  earl  of  Hertford  for  the  steps  taken  by 
him  in  confirmation  of  his  marriage  was  certainly  sincere,  how- 
ever unjust.  She  was  provoked,  perhaps  alarmed,  to  find  that 
he  had  been  advised  to  appeal  against  the  decision  of  her  com- 
missioners :  on  better  consideration,  however,  he  refrained  from 
making  this  experiment ;  but  by  a  process  in  the  ecclesiastical 
courts,  with  which  the  queen  could  not  or  would  not  interfere, 
he  finally  succeeded  in  establishing  the  legitimacy  of  his  sons. 

Of  the  progresses  of  her  majesty,  during  several  years,  nothing 
remarkable  appears  on  record ;  they  seem  to  have  had  no  other 
object  than  the  gratification  of  her  love  of  popular  applause,  and 
her  taste  for  magnificent  entertainments  which  cost  her  nothing: 
and  the  trivial  details  of  her  reception  at  the  different  towns  or 
mansions  which  she  honoured  with  her  presence,  are  equally 
barren  of  amusement  and  instruction.  But  her  visit  to  the  uni- 
versity of  Cambridge  in  the  summer  of  1564,  presents  too  many 
characteristic  traits  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 

Her  gracious  intention  of  honouring  this  seat  of  learning  with 
her  royal  presence  was  no  sooner  disclosed  to  the  secretary,  who 
was  chancellor  of  the  university,  than  it  was  notified  by  him  to 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


191 


the  vice-chancellor,  with  a  request  that  proper  persons  might  be 
sent  to  receive  his  instructions  on  the  subject.  It  appears  to 
have  been  part  of  these  instructions,  that  the  university  should 
prepare  an  extremely  respectful  letter  to  lord  Robert  Dudley, 
who  was  its  high-steward  entreating  him  in  such  manner  to  com- 
mend to  her  majesty  their  good  intentions,  and  to  excuse  any 
their  (ailure  in  the  performance,  that  she  might  be  inclined  to 
receive  in  good  part  all  their  efforts  for  her  entertainment.  So 
notorious  was  at  this  time  the  pre-eminent  favour  of  this  cour- 
tier with  his  sovereign,  and  so  humble  was  the  style  of  address 
to  him  required  from  a  body  so  venerable  and  so  illustrious ! 

Cecil  arrived  at  Cambridge  the  day  before  the  queen  to  set  all 
things  in  order,  and  received  from  the  university  a  customary  of- 
fering of  two  pairs  of  gloves,  two  sugarloaves,  and  a  marchpane. 
Lord  Robert  and  the  duke  of  Norfolk  were  complimented  with 
the  same  gift,  and  finer  gloves  and  more  elaborate  confectionary 
were  presented  to  the  queen  herself. 

When  she  reached  the  door  of  King's  college  chapel,  the 
chancellor  kneeled  down  and  bade  her  welcome  ;  and  the  orator, 
kneeling  on  the  church  steps,  made  her  an  harangue  of  nearly  half 
an  hour.  "  First  he  praised  and  commended  many  and  singu- 
lar virtues  planted  and  set  in  her  majesty,  which  her  highness 
not  acknowledging  of  shaked  her  head,  bit  her  lips  and  her  fin- 
gers, and  sometimes  broke  forth  into  passion  and  these  words ; 
*  Non  est  Veritas,  el  utinam? — On  his  praising  virginity,  she  said 
to  the  orator,  *  God's  blessing  of  thy  heart,  there  continue.'  Af- 
ter that  he  showed  what  joy  the  university  had  of  her  presence," 
&c.  "  When  he  had  done,  she  commended  him,  and  much  mar- 
velled that  his  memory  did  so  well  serve  him,  repeating  such  di- 
verse and  sundry  matters  ;  saying  that  she  would  answer  him 
again  in  Latin,  but  for  fear  she  should  speak  false  Latin,  and 
then  they  would  laugh  at  her." 

This  concluded,  she  entered  the  chapel  in  great  state ;  lady 
Strange,  a  princess  of  the  Suffolk  line,  bearing  her  train,  and 
her  ladies  following  in  their  degrees.  Te  Deum  was  sung  and 
the  evening  service  performed,  with  all  the  pomp  that  protestant 
worship  admits,  in  that  magnificent  temple,  of  which  she  highly 
extolled  the  beauty.  The  next  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  she 
went  thither  again  to  hear  a  Latin  sermon  adclerum,  and  in  the 
evening,  the  body  of  this  solemn  edifice  being  converted  into  a 
temporary  theatre,  she  was  there  gratified  with  a  representation 
of  the  Aulularia  of  Plautus.  Offensive  as  such  an  application  of  a 
sacred  building  would  be  to  modern  feelings,  it  probably  shocked 
no  one  in  an  age  when  the  practice  of  performing  dramatic  en- 
tertainments in  churches,  introduced  with  the  mysteries  and 
moralities  of  the  middle  ages,  was  scarcely  obsolete,  and  cer- 
tainly not  forgotten.  Neither  was  the  representation  of  plays 
on  Sundays  at  this  time  regarded  as  an  indecorum. 

A  public  disputation  in  the  morning,  and  a  Latin  play  on  the 
story  of  Dido  in  the  evening,  formed  the  entertainment  of  her 
majesty  on  the  third  day.  On  the  fourth,  an  English  play  called 


192 


THE  COURT  OF 


Ezechias  was  performed  before  her.  The  next  morning  she  vi- 
sited the  different  colleges, — at  each  of  which  a  Latin  oration 
awaited  her  and  a  parting  present  of  gloves  and  confectionary, 
besides  a  volume  richly  bound,  containing  the  verses  in  English, 
Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  and  Chaldee,  composed  by  the  members 
of  each  learned  society  in  honour  of  her  visit. 

Afterwards  she  repaired  to  St.  Mary's  church,  where  a  very 
long  and  very  learned  disputation  by  doctors  in  divinity,  was 
prepared  for  her  amusement  and  edification.  When  it  was  end- 
ed, "  the  lords,  and  especially  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and  lord  Ro- 
bert Dudley,  kneeling  down,  humbly  desired  her  majesty  to 
speak  something  to  the  university,  and  in  Latin.  Her  highness,  at 
the  first,  refused,  saying,  that  if  she  might  speak  her  mind  in 
English,  she  would  not  stick  at  the  matter.  But  understanding 
by  Mr.  Secretary  that  nothing  might  be  said  openly  to  the  uni- 
versity in  English,  she  required  him  the  rather  to  speak,  because 
he  was  chancellor,  and  the  chancellor  is  the  queen's  mouth. 
Whereunto  he  answered,  that  he  was  chancellor  of  the  univer- 
sity, and  not  hers.  Then  the  bishop  of  Ely  kneeling  said,  that 
three  words  of  her  mouth  were  enough."  By  entreaties  so  ur 
gent,  she  appeared  to  suffer  herself  to  be  prevailed  upon  to  deli- 
ver a  speech  which  had  doubtless  been  prepared  for  the  occasion, 
and  very  probably  by  Cecil  himself.  This  harangue  is  not  worth 
transcribing  at  length  :  it  contained  some  disqualifying  phrases 
respecting  her  own  proficiency  in  learning,  and  a  pretty  profes- 
sion of  feminine  bashfulness  in  delivering  an  unstudied  speech 
before  so  erudite  an  auditory ; — her  attachment  to  the  cause  of 
learning  was  then  set  forth,  and  a  paragraph  followed  which 
may  thus  be  translated :  "  I  saw  this  morning  your  sumptuous 
edifices  founded  by  illustrious  princes  my  predecessors  for  the 
benefit  of  learning ;  but  while  I  viewed  them  my  mind  was  af- 
fected with  sorrow,  and  I  sighed  like  Alexander  the  Great,  when 
having  perused  the  records  of  the  deeds  of  other  princes,  turning 
to  his  friends  or  counsellors,  he  lamented  that  any  one  should 
have  preceded  him  either  in  time  or  in  actions.  When  I  beheld 
your  edifices,  I  grieved  that  I  had  done  nothing  in  this  kind. 
Yet  did  the  vulgar  proverb  somewhat  lessen,  though  it  could  not 
entirely  remove  my  concern  ; — that  '  Rome  was  not  built  in  a 
day.'  For  my  age  is  not  yet  so  far  advanced,  neither  is  it  yet  so 
long  since  I  began  to  reign,  but  that  before  I  pay  my  debt  to  na- 
ture,— unless  Atropos  should  prematurely  cut  my  thread, — I 
may  still  be  able  to  execute  some  distinguished  undertaking :  and 
never  will  I  be  diverted  from  the  intention  while  life  shall  ani- 
mate this  frame.  Should  it,  however,  happen,  as  it  may,  I  know 
not  how  soon,  that  I  should  be  overtaken  by  death  before  I 
have  been  able  to  perform  this  my  promise,  I  will  not  fail  to 
leave  some  great  work  to  be  executed  after  my  decease,  by 
which  my  memory  may  be  rendered  famous,  others,  excited  by 
my  example,  and  all  of  you  animated  to  greater  ardour  in  your 
studies." 

After  such  a  speech,  it  might  naturally  be  inquired,  which  col- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


193 


i^ge  did  she  endow  ?  But,  alas  !  the  prevailing  disposition  of  Eli- 
zabeth was  the  reverse  of  liberal ;  and  her  revenues,  it  may  be 
added,  were  narrow.  During  the  whole  course  of  her  long  reign, 
not  a  single  conspicuous  act  of  public  munificence  sheds  its 
splendour  on  her  name,  and  the  pledge  thus  solemnly  and  pub- 
licly given,  was  never  redeemed  by  her,  living  or  dying.  An 
annuity  of  twenty  pounds  bestowed,  with  the  title  of  her  scholar, 
on  a  pretty  young  man  of  the  name  of  Preston,  whose  graceful 
performance  in  a  public  deputation  and  in  the  Latin  play  of 
i)ido  had  particularly  caught  her  fancy,  appears  to  have  been  the 
only  solid  benefit  bestowed  by  her  majesty  in  return  for  all  the 
eost  and  all  the  learned  incense  lavished  on  her  reception  by  this 
loyal  and  splendid  university.* 

Soon  after  her  return  from  her  progress,  the  queen  determined 
to  gratify  her  feelings  by  conferring  on  her  beloved  Dudley  some 
signal  testimonies  of  her  royal  regard  ;  and  she  invested  him 
with  the  dignities  of  baron  of  Denbigh  and  earl  of  Leicester, 
accompanying  these  honours  with  the  splendid  gift  of  Kenel- 
worth  Castle,  park  and  manor : — for  in  behalf  of  Dudley,  and 
afterwards  of  Essex,  she  could  even  forget  for  a  time  her  darling 
virtue, — frugality.  The  chronicles  of  the  time  describe  with 
extraordinary  care  and  minuteness  the  whole  pompous  ceremo- 
nial of  this  creation  ;  but  a  much  more  lively  and  interesting 
description  of  this  scene,  as  well  as  of  several  others  of  which 
he  was  an  eye-witness  in  the  court  of  Elizabeth,  has  been  hand- 
ed down  to  us  in  the  entertaining  memoirs  of  sir  James  Melvil ; 
a  Scotch  gentleman  noted  among  the  political  agents,  or  diplo- 
matists of  second  rank,  whom  that  age  of  intrigue  brought  forth 
so  abundantly. 

A  few  particulars  of  the  history  of  this  person,  curious  in 
themselves,  will  also  form  a  proper  introduction  to  his  narrative. 

Meivil  was  born  in  Fifeshire  in  the  year  1530,  of  a  family 
patronised  by  the  queen  regent,  Mary  of  Guise,  who  having  taken 
into  her  own  service  his  brothers  Robert  and  Andrew,  both  af- 
terwards noted  in  public  life,  determined  to  send  James  to 
France  to  be  brought  up  as  page  to  the  queen  her  daughter,  then 
dauphiness.  He  was  accordingly  placed  under  the  care  of  the 
crafty  Monluc  bishop  of  Valence,  then  on  his  return  from  his 
Scotch  embassy  :  and  previously  to  his  embarkation  for  the  con- 
tinent he  had  the  advantage  of  accompanying  this  master  of  in- 
trigue on  a  secret  mission  to  O'Neil,  then  the  head  of  the  Irish 
rebels.  The  youth  was  apparently  not  much  delighted  with  his 
visit  to  this  barbarous  chieftain,  whose  dwelling  was  "a  great 

*  A  seeming  contradiction  to  'he  assertions  in  the  text  may  be  discovered  in  the 
circumstance  that  Elizabeth  is  the  nominal  foundress  of  Jesus  College,  Oxford.  But 
it  was  at  the  expense,  as  well  as  at  the  suggestion,  of  Dr.  Price,  a  patriotic  Welsh- 
man, that  tliis  sominary  of  learning,  designed  for  the  leception  of  his  fellow-coun- 
trynicn,  was  instituted.  Her  name,  a  charter  of  incorporation,  dated  June  27th, 
1571,  ami  some  Umber  from  her  forests  of  Stoiv  and  Shotover,  were  the  only  con- 
tributions ot  her  majesty  toward^  an  object  so  laudable,  and  of  which  the  inadequate 
funds  of  the  real  founder  long -delayed  the  accomplishment. 

B  b 


194 


THE  COURT  OF 


dark  tower,  where,"  says  he,  "we  had  cold  cheer,  such  as  her- 
rings and  biscuit,  for  it  was  Lent  "  Arriving  at  Paris,  the  bishop 
caused  him  to  be  carefully  instructed  in  all  the  requisite  accom- 
plishments of  a  page, — the  French  tongue,  dancing,  fencing,  and 
playing  on  the  lute:  and  after  nine  years  spent  under  his  pro- 
tection, Melvil  passed  into  the  service  of  the  constable  Mont- 
morenci,  by  whose  interest  he  obtained  a  pension  from  the  king 
of  France.  Whilst  in  this  situation,  he  was  dispatched  on  a  se- 
cret mission  to  Scotland,  to  learn  the  real  designs  of  the  prior 
of  St.  Andrews,  and  to  inform  himself  6f  the  state  of  parties  in 
that  country. 

In  the  year  1560  he  obtained  permission  from  his  own  sove- 
reign to  travel,  and  gained  admission  into  the  service  of  the 
elector  palatine.  This  prince  employed  him  in  an  embassy  of 
condolence  on  the  death  of  Francis  II.  Some  time  after  his  re- 
turn he  received  a  commission  from  the  queen  of  Scots  to  make 
himself  personally  acquainted  with  the  archduke  Charles,  who 
was  proposed  to  her  for  a  husband. 

This  done,  he  made  a  tour  in  Italy,  and  then  returned  to  the 
elector  palatine  at  Heidelberg.  He  was  next  employed  by 
Maximilian  king  of  the  Romans,  to  carry  to  France  the  portrait 
of  one  of  his  daughters,  to  whom  proposals  of  marriage  had  been 
made  on  the  part  of  Charles  IX.  At  this  court  Catherine  dei 
Medici  would  gladly  have  detained  him  ;  but  a  summons  from 
his  own  queen  determined  him  to  repair  again  to  Scotland. 

Duke  Casimir,  son  of  the  elector  palatine,  having  some  time 
before  made  an  offer  of  his  hand  to  queen  Elizabeth,  to  which  a 
dubious  answer  had  been  returned,  requested  Melvil,  in  passing 
through  England,  to  convey  his  picture  to  that  princess.  The 
envoy,  secretly  despairing  of  the  suit,  desired  that  he  might  also 
be  furnished  with  portraits  of  the  other  members  of  the  electoral 
family,  and  with  some  nominal  commission  by  means  of  which 
he  might  gain  more  easy  access  to  the  queen,  and  produce  the 
picture  as  if  without  design.  He  was  accordingly  instructed  to 
press  for  a  more  explicit  answer  than  had  yet  been  given  to  the 
proposal  of  an  alliance  offensive  and  defensive  between  England 
and  the  protestant  princes  of  Germany  ;  and  thus  prepared  he 
reached  London  early  in  the  year  1564. 

After  some  discourse  with  the  queen  on  the  ostensible  object 
of  his  mission,  Melvil  found  occasion  to  break  forth  into  earnest 
commendations  of  the  elector,  whose  service  nothing,  he  said, 
but  this  duty  to  his  own  sovereign  could  have  induced  him  to 
quit ;  and  he  added,  that  for  the  remembrance  of  so  good  a  mas- 
ter, he  had  desired  to  carry  home  with  him  his  portrait,  as  well 
as  those  of  all  his  sons  and  daughters.  "  So  soon  as  she  heard 
me  mention  the  pictures,"  continues  he,  "  she  enquired  if  I  had 
the  picture  of  duke  Casimir,  desiring  to  see  it.  And  when  I 
alleged  that  I  had  left  the  pictures  in  London,  she  being  then 
at  Hampton  Court,  and  that  I  was  ready  to  go  forward  on  mj 
journey,  she  said  1  should  not  part  till  she  had  seen  the  pictures. 
So  the  next  day  I  delivered  them  all  to  her  majesty,  and  she 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


195 


desired  to  keep  them  all  night;  and  she  called  upon  my  lord 
RobeH  Dudley  to  be  judge  of  dukti  Casimir's  picture,  and  ap 
pointed  me  to  meet  her  the  nexl  morning  in  her  garden,  where 
she  caused  to  deliver  them  a'l  unto  me,  giving  me  thanks  for  the 
Sight  of  them.  I  then  ottered  unto  her  majesty  all  the  picture  , 
so  she  would  permit  me  to  retain  the  elector's  and  his  lady's, 
but  she  would  have  none  of  them.  1  had  also  sure  information 
that  first  and  last  she  despised  the  said  duke  Casimir." 

It  was  a  little  before  this  time  that  Elizabeth  had  been  con 
suited  by  Mary  on  the  proposal  of  the  archduke,  and  had  de- 
clared by  Randolph  her  strong  disapprobation  of  it. 

She  now  told  Melvil,  with  whom  she  conversed  on  this  and 
other  subjects  very  familiarly  and  with  apparent  openness,  that 
she  intended  soon  to  mention  as  lit  matches  for  his  queen  two 
noblemen,  one  or  other  of  whom  she  hoped  to  see  her  accept. 
These  two,  according  to  Melvil,  were  Dudley  and  lord  Darnley, 
eldest  son  of  the  earl  of  Lenox  by  the  lady  Margaret  Douglas. 
It  must  however  be  remarked,  that  Melvil  appears  to  be  the.  only 
writer  who  asserts  that  the  first  suggestion  of  an  union  between 
Mary  and  Darnley  came  from  the  English  queen,  who  afterwards 
so  vehemently  opposed  this  step.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  it  is 
probable  that  Elizabeth  was  more  sincere  in  her  desire  to  im- 
pede the  Austrian  match  than  to  promote  any  other  for  the 
queen  of  Scots :  and  with  the  former  view  Melvil  accuses  her 
of  throwing  out  hints  by  which  the  archduke  was  encouraged  to 
renew  his  suit  to  herself.  Provoked,  as  he  asserts,  by  this  du- 
plicity, of  which  she  soon  received  certain  information,  Mary 
returned  a  sharp  answer  to  a  letter  from  her  kinswoman  of  seem- 
ingly friendly  advice,  and  hence  had  ensued  a  coldness  and  a 
cessation  of  intercourse  between  them.  But  Mary,  "  fearing 
that  if  their  discord  continued  it  would  cut  off  all  correspondence 
between  her  and  her  friends  in  England,"  thought  good,  a  few 
weeks  after  Melvil  had  returned  to  Scotland,  to  dispatch  him 
again  towards  London,  "  to  deal  with  the  queen  of  England,  with 
the  Spanish  ambassador,  and  with  my  lady  Margaret  Douglas, 
and  with  sundry  friends  she  had  in  England  of  different  opi- 
nions." 

It  was  the  interest  of  neither  sovereign  at  this  time  to  be  on 
bad  terms  with  the  other;  and  their  respective  ministers  and 
secretaries  being  also  agreed  among  themselves  to  maintain  har- 
mony between  the  countries,  the  excuses  and  explanations  of 
Melvil  were  allowed  to  pass  current,  and  the  demonstrations  of 
amity  were  resumed  between  the  hostile  queens. 

Some  particulars  of  the  reception  of  this  envoy  at  the  English 
court  are  curious,  and  may  probably  be  relied  on.  "  Being  ar- 
rived at  London  1  lodged  near  the  court,  which  was  at  Westmin- 
ster. My  host  immediately  gave  advertisement  of  my  coming, 
and  that  same  night  her  majesty  sent  Mr.  Hatton,  afterwards 
governor  of  the  isle  of  Wight,  to  welcome  me,  and  to  show  me 
that  the  next  morning  she  would  give  me  audience  in  her  garden 
at  eight  of  the  clock."    "The  next  morning  Mr.  Hatton  and 


196 


THE  COURT  OF 


Mr.  Randolph  late  agent  for  the  queen  of  England  in  Scotland, 
came  to  my  lodging  to  convey  me  to  her  majesty,  who  was,  as 
they  said,  already  in  the  garden.  With  them  came  a  servant  of 
my  lord  Robert's  with  a  horse  and  foot-mantle  of  velvet,  laced 
with  gold,  for  me  to  ride  upon.  Which  servant,  with  the  said 
horse,  waited  upon  me  all  the  time  that  I  remained  there." 

At  a  subsequent  interview,  "  the  old  friendship  being  renewed, 
Elizabeth  inquired  if  the  queen  had  sent  any  answer  to  the  pro- 
position of  marriage  made  to  her  by  Mr.  Randolph.  I  answered, 
as  I  had  been  instructed,  that  my  mistress  thought  little  or  no- 
thing thereof,  but  attended  the  meeting  of  some  commissioners 
upon  the  borders  ....  to  confer  and  treat  upon  all  such  matters 
of  greatest  importance,  as  should  be  judged  to  concern  the  quiet 
of  both  countries,  and  the  satisfaction  of  both  their  majesties' 
minds."  Adding,  "  the  queen  my  mistress  is  minded,  as  I  have 
said,  to  send  for  her  part  my  lord  of  Murray,  and  the  secretary 
Lidingtoun,  and  expects  your  majesty  will  send  my  lord  of  Bed- 
ford and  my  lord  Robert  Dudley."  She  answered,  "  it  appeared 
I  made  but  small  account  of  my  lord  Robert,  seeing  I  named  the 
earl  of  Bedford  before  him,  but  that  ere  long  she  would  make 
him  a  far  greater  earl,  and  that  I  should  see  it  done  before  my 
returning  home.  For  she  esteemed  him  as  her  brother  and  best 
friend,  whom  she  would  have  herself  married  had  she  ever  minded 
to  have  taken  a  husband.  But  being  determined  to  end  her  life 
in  virginity,  she  wished  the  queen  her  sister  might  marry  him, 
as  meetest  of  all  other  with  whom  she  could  find  in  her  heart 
to  declare  her  second  person.  F'or  being  matched  with  him,  it 
would  remove  out  of  her  mind  all  fears  and  suspicions,  to  be  of- 
fended by  any  usurpation  before  her  death.  Being  assured  that 
he  was  so  loving  and  trusty  that  he  would  never  suffer  any  such 
thing  to  be  attempted  during  her  time.  And  that  the  queen 
my  mistress  might  have  the  higher  esteem  of  him,  I  was  required 
to  stay  till  I  should  see  him  made  earl  of  Leicester  and  baron  of 
Denbigh  ;  which  was  done  at  Westminster  with  great  solemnity, 
the  queen  herself  helping  to  put  on  his  ceremonial  (mantle),  he 
sitting  upon  his  knees  before  her  with  a  great  gravity.  But 
she  could  not  refrain  from  putting  her  hand  in  his  neck,  smilingly 
tickling  him,  the  French  ambassador  and  I  standing  by.  Then 
she  turned,  asking  at  me  how  I  liked  him?  I  answered,  that  as 
he  was  a  worthy  servant,  so  he  was  happy,  who  had  a  princess 
who  could  discern  and  reward  good  service.  Yet,  says  she,  you 
like  better  of  yonder  long  lad,  pointing  towards  my  lord  Darn- 
ley,  who,  as  nearest  prince  of  the  blood,  did  bear  the  sword  of 
honour  that  day  before  her." 

"  She  appeared  to  be  so  affectionate  to  the  queen  her  good 
sister,  that  she  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  her.  And  be- 
cause their  so  much  by  her  desired  meeting  could  not  so  hastily 
be  brought  to  pass,  she  appeared  with  great  delight  to  look  upon 
her  majesty's  picture.  She  took  me  to  her  bed-chamber  and 
opened  a  little  cabinet,  wherein  were  divers  little  pictures 
wrapped  within  paper,  and  their  names  written  with  her  own 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


19: 


band  upon  the  papers.  Upon  the  first  that  she  took  up  was 
written  *  My  lord's  picture.'  I  held  the  candle,  and  pressed  to 
see  that  picture  so  named ;  she  appeared  loath  to  let  me  see  it, 
yet  my  importunity  prevailed  for  a  sight  thereof,  and  1  found  it 
to  be  the  earl  of  Leicester's  picture.  I  desired  that  I  might 
have  it  to  carry  home  to  my  queen,  which  she  refused,  alleging 
that  she  had  but  that  one  picture  of  his.  I  said,  Your  majesty 
hath  here  the  original,  for  I  perceived  him  at  the  furthest  part 
of  the  chamber,  speaking  with  secretary  Cecil.  Then  she  took 
out  the  queen's  picture  and  kissed  it,  and  I  adventured  to  kiss 
her  hand  for  the  great  love  evidenced  therein  to  my  mistress. 
She  showed  me  also  a  fair  ruby  as  great  as  a  tennis-ball  ^de- 
sired that  she  would  send  either  it,  or  my  lord  of  Leicester's  pic- 
ture, as  a  token  to  my  queen.  She  said,  that  if  the  queen  would 
follow  her  counsel,  she  would  in  process  of  time  get  all  that  she 
had  :  that  in  the  mean  time  she  was  resolved  in  a  token  to  send 
her  with  me  a  fair  diamond.  It  was  at  this  time  late  after  sup- 
per ;  she  appointed  me  to  be  with  her  the  next  morning  by  eight 
of  the  clock,  at  which  time  she  used  to  walk  in  her  garden. 

"  She  enquired  of  me  many  things  relating  to  this  kingdom, 
(Scotland,)  and  other  countries  wherein  I  had  travelled.  She 
caused  me  to  dine  with  her  dame  of  honour,  my  lady  Strafford, 
(an  honourable  and  godly  lady,  who  had  been  at  Geneva,  banish- 
ed during  the  reign  of  queen  Mary,)  that  I  might  be  always  near 
her,  that  she  might  confer  with  me." 

.  ..."  At  divers  meetings  we  had  divers  purposes.  The  queen 
my  mistress  had  instructed  me  to  leave  matters  of  gravity  some- 
times, and  cast  in  merry  purposes,  lest  otherwise  she  should  be 
wearied  ;  she  being  well  informed  of  that  queen's  natural  tem- 
per. Therefore  in  declaring  my  observations  of  the  customs  of 
Dutchland,  Poland,  and  Italy  ;  the  buskins  of  the  women  was  not 
forgot,  and  what  country  weed  I  thought  best  becoming  gentle- 
women. The  queen  said  she  had  clothes  of  every  sort,  which 
every  day  thereafter,  so  long  as  I  was  there,  she  changed.  One 
day  she  had  the  English  weed,  another  the  French,  and  another 
the  Italian,  and  so  forth.  She.  asked  me,  which  of  them  became 
her  best?  I  answered,  in  my  judgment  the  Italian  dress  ;  which 
answer  I  found  pleased  her  well,  for  she  delighted  to  shew  her 
golden  coloured  hair,  wearing  a  caul  and  bonnet  as  they  do  in 
Italy.  Her  hair  was  rather  reddish  than  yellow,  curled  in  appear- 
ance naturally. 

"  She  desired  to  know  of  me  what  colour  of  hair  was  reputed 
best,  and  whether  my  queen's  hair  or  hers  was  best,  and  which  of 
them  two  was  fairest  ?  I  answered,  the  fairness  of  them  both 
was  not  their  worst  faults.  But  she  was  earnest  with  me  to  de- 
clare which  of  them  I  judged  fairest?  I  said,  she  was  the  fairest 
queen  in  England,  and  mine  in  Scotland.  Yet  she  appeared 
earnest.  I  answered,  they  were  both  the  fairest  ladies  in  their 
countries ;  that  her  majesty  was  whiter,  but  my  queen  was  very 
lovely.  She  enquired,  which  of  them  was  of  highest  statute  ?  J 
said,  my  queen.  Then,  saith  she,  she  is  too  high,  for  I  myself  am 


198 


THE  COURT  OF 


neither  too  high  nor  too  low.  Then  she  asked,  what  exercises 
she  used  ?  I  answered,  that  when  I  received  my  dispatch,  the 
queen  was  lately  come  from  the  Highland  hunting.  That  when 
her  more  serious  affairs  permitted,  she  was  taken  up  with  read- 
ing of  histories:  that  sometimes  she  recreated  herself  in  plaving 
upon  the  lute  and  virginals.  She  asked  if  she  played  well  ?  I 
said  reasonably,  for  a  queen." 

"  That  same  day  after  dinner,  my  lord  of  Hunsdon  drew  me 
up  to  a  quiet  gallery  that  I  might  hear  some  music,  but  he  said 
lie  durst  not  avow  it,  where  I  might  hear  the  queen  play  upon 
the  virginals.  After  I  had  hearkened  awhile,  I  took  by  the  tapes- 
try that  hung  before  the  door  of  the  chamber,  and  seeing  her 
back  was  toward  the  door,  I  ventured  within  the  chamber,  and 
stood  a  pretty  space  hearing  her  play  excellently  well ;  but  she 
left  off  immediately,  so  soon  as  she  turned  about  and  saw  me.  She 
appeared  to  be  surprised  to  see  me,  and  came  forward,  seeming 
to  strike  me  with  her  hand,  alleging  that  she  used  not  to  play  be- 
fore men,  but  when  she  was  solitary,  to  shun  melancholy.  She 
asked  how  I  came  there?  I  answered,  as  I  was  walking  with  my 
lord  of  Hunsdon,  as  we  passed  by  the  chamber  door,  I  heard  such 
melody  as  ravished  me,  whereby  I  was  drawn  in  ere  I  knew  how, 
excusing  my  fault  of  homeliness  as  being  brought  up  in  the  court 
of  France,  where  such  freedom  was  allowed  ;  declaring  myself 
willing  to  endure  what  kind  of  punishment  her  majesty  should  be 
pleased  to  inflict  upon  me,  for  so  great  an  offence.  Then  she 
sat  down  lowr  upon  a  cushion,  and  1  upon  my  knees  by  her,  but 
with  her  own  hand  she  gave  me  a  cushion  to  lay  under  my  knee, 
which  at  first  I  refused,  but  she  compelled  me  to  take  it.  She 
then  called  for  my  lady  Strafford  out  of  the  next  chamber,  for  the 
queen  was  alone.  She  enquired  whether  my  queen  or  she  play- 
ed best  ?  In  that  I  found  myself  obliged  to  give  her  the  praise. 
She  said  my  French  was  very  good,  and  asked  if  I  could 
speak  Italian,  which  she  spoke  reasonably  well.  I  told  her  ma- 
jesty I  had  no  time  to  learn  the  language,  not  having  been  above 
two  months  in  Italy.  Then  she  spake  to  me  in  Dutch,  which  was 
not  good  ;  and  would  know  what  kind  of  books  I  most  delighted 
in,  whether  theology,  history,  or  love  matters  ?  I  said  I  liked 
well  of  all  the  sorts.  Here  I  took  occasion  to  press  earnestly 
my  dispatch  :  she  said  I  was  sooner  weary  of  her  company  than 
she  was  of  mine.  I  told  her  majesty,  that  though  I  had  no  rea- 
son of  being  weary,  I  knew  my  mistress  her  affairs  called  me 
home ;  yet  I  w  as  stayed  two  days  longer,  that  I  might  see  her 
dance,  as  I  was  afterward  informed.  Which  being  over,  she 
enquired  of  me  whether  she  or  my  queen  danced  best  ?  I  answer- 
ed, the  queen  danced  not  so  high  or  disposedly  as  she  did.  Then 
again  she  wished  that  she  might  see  the  queen  at  some  conveni- 
ent place  of  meeting.  I  offered  to  convey  her  secretly  to  Scotland 
by  post,  cloathed  like  a  page,  that  under  this  disguise  she  might 
see  the  queen,  as  James  V.  had  gone  in  disguise  with  his  own  am- 
bassador to  see  the  duke  of  Vendome's  sister,  who  should  have 
been  his  wife.    Telling  her  that  her  chamber  might  be  kept  in 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH 


199 


her  absence,  as  though  she  were  sick;  that  none  need  be  privy 
thereto  except  lady  Strafford,  and  one  of  the  grooms  of  her  cham- 
ber. She  appeared  to  like  that  kind  of  language,  only  answered 
it  with  a  sigh,  saying,  Alas,  if  I  might  do  it  thus  !" 

Respecting  Leicester,  Melvil  says,  that  he  was  conveyed  by 
him  in  his  barge  from  Hampton  Court  to  London,  and  that,  by 
the  way,  lie  inquired  of  him  what  the  queen  of  Scots  thought  of 
him  and  of  the  marriage  proposed  by  Randolph.  "  W  hereunto," 
says  he,  "  1  answered  very  coldly,  as  1  had  been  by  my  queen 
commanded."  Then  he  began  to  purge  himself  of  so  proud  a 
pretence  as  to  marry  so  great  a  queen,  declaring  that  he  did  not 
esteem  himself  worthy  to  wipe  her  shoes,  and  that  the  invention 
of  that  proposition  of  marriage  proceeded  from  Mr.  Cecil,  his 
secret  enemy  ;  "  For  if  I,"  said  he,  "  should  have  appeared  de- 
sirous of  that  marriage,  I  should  have  offended  both  the  queens, 
and  lost  their  favour  *." 

If  we  are  to  receive  as  sincere  this  declaration  of  his  senti- 
ments by  Leicester, — confessedly  one  of  the  deepest  dissem- 
blers of  the  age, — what  a  curious  view  does  it  afford  of  the  wind- 
ings and  intricacies  of  the  character  of  Elizabeth,  of  the  tissue 
of  ingenious  snares  which  she  delighted  to  weave  around  the 
foot-steps  even  of  the  man  whom  she  most  favoured,  loved,  and 
trusted  !  Perhaps  she  encouraged,  if  she  did  not  originally  de- 
vise, this  matrimonial  project  purely  as  a  romantic  trial  of  his 
attachment  to  herself,  and  pleased  her  fancy  with  the  idea  of  his 
rejecting  for  her  a  younger  and  a  fairer  queen  ; — perhaps  she 
entertained  a  transient  thought  of  making  him  her  own  husband, 
and  wished  previously  to  give  him  consequence  by  this  proposal ; 
— perhaps  she  meant  nothing  more  than  to  perplex  Mary  by  a 
variety  of  suitors,  and  thus  delay  her  marriage  ;  an  event  which 
she  could  not  anticipate  without  vexation. 

That  she  was  not  sincere  in  her  recommendation  of  Leices- 
ter is  certain  from  the  circumstance,  that  when  the  queen  of 
Scots,  appearing  to  incline  to  a  speedy  conclusion  of  the  busi- 
ness, pressed  to  know  on  what  conditions  Elizabeth  would  give 
her  approbation  to  the  union,  the  earnestness  in  the  cause  which 
she  had  before  displayed  immediately  abated. 

Her  conduct  with  respect  to  Darnley  is  equally  involved  in 
perplexity  and  double-dealing.  Melvil,  as  we  have  seen,  asserts 
that  it  was  Elizabeth  herself  who  first  mentioned  him  as  a  suit- 
able match  for  the  queen  of  Scots  :  and  if  his  relation  be  correct, 
which  his  partiality  towards  his  own  sovereign  makes  indeed 
somewhat  doubtful,  the  English  princess  must  have  been  well 
aware,  when  she  conversed  with  him,  of  the  favour  with  which 
the  addresses  of  this  young  nobleman  were  likely  to  be  received, 
though  the  envoy  says  that  he  forbore  openly  to  express  the  sen- 
timents of  his  court  on  this  topic.  It  was  after  Melvil's  depar- 
ture that  Elizabeth,  not  indeed  without  reluctance  and  hesita- 
tion, permitted  Darnley  to  accompany  the  earl  his  father  into 


*  Mdvil's  «'  Memoirs," passim 


<200 


THE  COURT  OF 


Scotland,  ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  the  reversal  of 
the  attainder  formerly  passed  against  him,  and  his  solemn  restor- 
ation in  blood ;  but  really,  as  she  must  well  have  known,  with 
the  object  of  pushing  his  suit  with  the  queen. 

Mary  no  sooner  beheld  the  handsome  youth  than  she  was 
seized  with  a  passion  for  him,  which  she  determined  to  gratify : 
but  apprehensive,  with  reason,  of  the  interference  of  Elizabeth, 
she  disguised  for  the  present  her  inclinations,  and  engaged  with 
a  feigned  earnestness  in  negotiations  preparatory  to  an  union 
with  Leicester.  Meanwhile  she  was  secretly  soliciting  at  Rome 
the  necessary  dispensation  for  marrying  within  the  prohibited 
degrees  of  the  church ;  and  it  was  not  till  the  arrival  of  this  in- 
strument was  speedily  expected,  and  atf  her  other  preparations 
were  complete,  that,  taking  off  the  mask,  she  requested  her  good 
sister's  approbation  of  her  approaching  nuptials  with  Lord  Darn 
ley. 

It  is  scarcely  credible  that  a  person  of  Elizabeth's  sagacity., 
with  her  means  of  gaining  intelligence  and  after  all  that  had 
passed,  could  have  been  surprised  by  this  notification  of  the  in- 
tentions of  the  queen  of  Scots,  and  it  is  even  problematical  how 
far  she  was  really  displeased  at  the  occurrence.  Except  by  imi 
tating  her  perpetual  celibacy, — a  compliment  to  her  envy  and 
her  example  which  could  not  in  reason  be  expected, — it  might 
seem  impossible  for  the  queen  of  Scots  better  to  consult  the 
views  and  wishes'  of  her  kinswoman  than  by  uniting  herself  to 
Darnley  ; — a  subject,  and  an  English  subject,  a  near  relation 
both  of  her  own  and  Elizabeth's,  and  a  man  on  whom  nature  had 
bestowed  not  a  single  quality  calculated  to  render  him  either 
formidable  or  respectable.  The  queen  of  England,  however,  fro- 
wardly  bent  on  opposing  the  match  to  the  utmost,  directed  sir 
Nicholas  Throgmorton,  her  ambassador,  to  set  before  the  eyes 
of  Mary  a  long  array  of  objections  and  impediments  ;  and  he  was 
further  authorised  secretly  to  promise  support  to  such  of  the 
Scottish  nobles  as  would  undertake  to  oppose  it.  She  ordered, 
in  the  most  imperious  terms,  the  earl  of  Lenox  and  his  son  to 
return  immediately  into  England  ;  threw  the  countess  of  Lenox 
into  the  Tower  by  way  of  intimidation  ;  and  caused  her  privy- 
council  to  exercise  their  ingenuity  in  discovering  the  manifold 
inconveniences  and  dangers  likely  to  arise  to  herself  and  to  her 
country  from  the  alliance  of  the  queen  of  Scots  with  a  house  so 
nearly  connected  with  the  English  crown. 

Mary,  however,  persisted  in  accomplishing  the  union  on  which 
her  mind  was  set :  Darnley  and  his  father  neglected  Elizabeth's 
order  of  recall ;  and  her  privy-council  vexed  her  by  drawing 
from  the  melancholy  forebodings  which  she  had  urged  them  to 
promulgate  two  unwelcome  inferences  : — that  the  queen  ought 
to  lose  no  time  in  forming  a  connexion  which  might  cut  off  the 
hopes  of  others  by  giving  to  the  nation  posterity  of  her  own ; — 
and  that  as  the  Lenox  family  were  known  papists,  it  would  now 
be  expedient  to  exercise  against  all  of  that  persuasion  the  ut- 
most severity  of  the  penal  laws.    The  earl  of  Murray  and  some 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


tttber  malcontent  lords  in  Scotland  were  the  only  persons  who 
entered  with  warmth  and  sincerity  into  the  measures  of  Eliza- 
beth against  the  marriage;  for  they  alone  had  any  personal  in- 
terest in  impeding  the  advancement  of  the  Lenox  family.  Rashly 
relying  on  the  assurances  which  they  had  received  of  aid  from 
England,  they  took  up  arms  against  their  sovereign  ;  but  find- 
ing no  support  from  any  quarter,  they  were  soon  compelled  to 
make  their  escape  across  the  border  and  seek  refuge  with  the 
earl  of  Bedford,  lord  warden  of  the  marches.  On  their  arrival 
in  London,  the  royal  dissembler  insisted  on  their  declaring,  in 
presence  of  the  French  and  Spanish  ambassadors,  that  their  re- 
bellious attempts  had  received  no  encouragement  from  her  ;  but 
after  this  open  disavowal,  she  permitted  them  to  remain  unmo- 
lested in  her  dominions,  secretly  supplying  them  with  money  and 
interceding  with  their  offended  sovereign  in  their  behalf. 

Melvil  acquaints  us  that  when  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton,  on 
returning  from  his  embassy,  found  that  the  promises  which  he  had 
made  to  these  malcontents  had  been  disclaimed  both  by  her  ma- 
jesty and  by  Randolph,  he  "stood  in  awe  neither  of  queen  nor 
council  to  declare  the  verity,  that  he  had  made  such  promises 
in  her  name,  whereof  the  councillors  and  craftiest  courtiers 
thought  strange,  and  were  resolving  to  punish  him  for  avowing 
the  same  promise  to  be  made  in  his  mistress'  name,  had  not  he 
wisely  and  circumspectly  obtained  an  act  of  council  for  his  war- 
rant, which  he  offered  to  produce.  And  the  said  sir  Nicholas 
was  so  angry  that  he  had  been  made  an  instrument  to  deceive 
the  said  banished  lords,  that  he  advised  them  to  sue  humbly  for 
pardon  at  their  own  queen's  hand,  and  to  engage  never  again  to 
offend  her  for  satisfaction  of  any  prince  alive.  And  because,  as 
they  were  then  stated,  they  had  no  interest,  he  penned  for  them 
a  persuasive  letter  and  sent  to  her  majesty."  On  this  occasion 
Throgmorton  showed  himself  a  warm  friend  to  Mary's  succes- 
sion in  England,  and  advised  clemency  to  the  banished  lords  as 
one  mean  to  secure  it.  Mary,  highly  esteeming  him  and  con- 
vinced by  his  reasons,  resolved  to  follow  his  counsels. 

Elizabeth  never  willingly  remitted  any,  thing  of  that  rigour 
against  the  puritans  which  she  loved  to  believe  it  politic  to  ex- 
ercise ;  but  they  were  fortunate  enough  to  find  an  almost  avowed 
patron  in  Leicester,  and  secret  favourers  in  several  of  her  minis- 
ters and  counsellors ;  and  during  the  persecutions  of  the  catho- 
lics which  followed  the  marriage  of  Mary,  she  was  compelled 
to  press  upon  them  with  a  less  heavy  hand. 

Archbishop  Parker,  who  was  proceeding  with  much  self-satis- 
faction and  success  in  the  task  of  silencing  by  the  pains  of  sus- 
pension and  deprivation  all  scruples  of  conscience  among  the 
clergy  respecting  habits  and  ceremonies,  was  now  mortified  to 
find  his  zeal  restrained  by  the  interference  of  the  queen  herself, 
while  the  exulting  puritans  studied  to  improve  to  the  utmost 
the  temporary  connivance  of  the  ruling  powers. 


Cc 


202 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  XV. 

1565  and  1566. 

Renewal  of  the  archduke's  proposals. — Disappointment  of  Lei- 
cester.— Anecdote  concerning  him. — Disgrace  of  the  earl  of 
Arundel. — Situation  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk. — Leicester  his  se- 
cret enemy. — Notice  of  the  earl  of  Sussex. — Proclamation  re- 
specting fencing  schools. — Marriage  of  lady  Mary  Grey. — Sir 
H.  Sidney  deputy  of  Ireland. — Queen's  letter  to  him. — Prince 
of  Scotland  born. — Melvil  sent  with  the  news  to  Elizabeth. — 
His  account  of  his  reception. — Motion  in  the  house  of  commons 
for  naming  a  successor. — Discord  between  the  house  and  the 
queen  on  this  ground. — She  refuses  a  subsidy — dissolves  par- 
liament— visits  Oxford. — Particulars  oj  her  reception. 

Whether  or  not  it  was  with  a  view  of  impeding  the  mar- 
riage of  the  queen  of  Scots  that  Elizabeth  had  originally  encour- 
aged the  renewal  of  the  proposals  of  the  archduke  to  herself, 
certain  it  is  that  the  treaty  was  still  carried  on,  and  even  with 
increased  earnestness,  long  after  this  motive  had  ceased  to 
operate. 

It  was  subsequently  to  Mary's  announcement  of  her  approach- 
ing nuptials,  that  to  the  instances  of  the  imperial  ambassador 
Elizabeth  had  replied,  that  she  desired  to  keep  herself  free  till 
she  had  finally  decided  on  the  answer  to  be  given  to  the  king  of 
France,  who  had  also  offered  her  his  hand.*  After  breaking  off 
this  negotiation  with  Charles  IX.,  she  declared  to  the  same  am- 
bassador, that  she  would  never  engage  to  marry  a  person  whom 
she  had  not  seen  ; — an  answer  which  seemed  to  hint  to  the  arch- 
duke that  a  visit  would  be  well  received.  It  was  accordingly 
reported  with  confidence  that  this  prince  would  soon  commence 
his  journey  to  England  ;  and  Cecil  himself  ventured  to  write  to 
a  friend,  that  if  he  would  accede  to  the  national  religion,  and  if 
his  person  proved  acceptable  to  her  majesty,  "  except  God  should 
please  to  continue  his  displeasure  against  us,  we  should  see 
some  success."  But  he  thought  that  the  archduke  would  never 
explain  himself  on  religion  to  any  one  except  the  queen,  and 
not  to  her  until  he  should  see  hopes  of  speeding. 

The  splendid  dream  of  Leicester's  ambition  was  dissipated  for 
ever  by  these  negotiations  ;  and  a  diminution  of  the  queen's  par- 
tiality towards  him,  distinctly  visible  to  the  observant  eyes  of 
her  courtiers,  either  preceded  or  accompanied  her  entertaining 

*  It  is  on  the  fiuthority  of  Strype's  "  Annals"  that  this  offer  of  Charles  IX.  to 
"Elizabeth  is  recorib  rl.  Hume.  Camden,  Rapin,  are  all  silent  respecting  it ;  hut  as 
it  seems  that  Catherine  Hei  Medici  was  :tt  the  time  desirous  of  the  appearance  of 
a  closer  connexion  with  Elizabeth,  it  is  not  improbable  that  she  might  throw  out 
some  hint  of  this  nature  without  any  real  wish  of  bringing  about  an  union  in  all  re- 
spects so  unsuitable. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


203 


so  tone,  and  with  such  an  air  of  serious  deliberation,  the  propo- 
sals of  a  foreign  prince.  The  enemies  of  Leicester, — a  Large 
and  formidable  party,  comprehending  almost  all  the  highest 
names  among  the  nobility  and  the  greater  part  of  the  ministers, 
— openly  and  zealously  espoused  the  interest  of  the  archduke. 
Leicester  at  first  with  equal  warmth  and  equal  openness  opposed 
his  pretension*  ;  but  he  was  soon  admonished  by  the  frowns  of 
his  royal  mistress,  that  if  he  would  preserve  or  recover  his  in- 
fluence, he  must  now  be  content  to  take  a  humbler  tone,  and 
disguise  a  disappointment  which  there  was  arrogance  in  avowing. 

The  disposition  of  Elizabeth  partook  so  much  more  of  the 
haughty  than  the  tender,  that  the  slightest  appearances  of  pre- 
sumption would  always  provoke  her  to  take  a  pleasure  in  morti- 
fying the  most  distinguished  of  her  favourites  ;  and  it  might  be 
no  improbable  guess,  that  almost  the  whole  of  the  encouragement 
given  by  her  to  the  addresses  of  the  archduke  was  prompted  by 
the  desire  of  humbling  the  pride  of  Leicester,  and  showing  him 
that  his  ascendency  over  her  was  not  so  complete  or  so  secure 
as  he  imagined. 

A  circumstance  is  related  which  we  may  conjecture  to  have 
occurred  about  this  time,  and  which  sets  in  a  strong  light  this 
part  of  the  character  of  Elizabeth.  "  Bowyer,  a  gentleman  of 
the  Black  Rod,  being  charged  by  her  express  command  to  look 
precisely  into  all  admissions  into  the  privy-chamber,  one  day 
stayed  a  very  gay  captain,  and  a  follower  of  my  lord  of  Leices- 
ter's, from  entrance  ;  for  that  he  was  neither  well  known,  nor  a 
sworn  servant  to  the  queen :  at  which  repulse,  the  gentleman, 
bearing  high  on  my  lord's  favour,  told  him,  he  might  perchance 
procure  him  a  discharge.  Leicester  coming  into  the  contestation, 
said,  publicly,  (which  was  none  of  his  wont,)  that  he  was  a  knave, 
and  should  not  continue  long  in  his  office  ;  and  so  turning  about 
to  go  in  to  the  queen,  Bowyer,  who  was  a  bold  gentleman,  and 
well  beloved,  stepped  before  him  and  fell  at  her  majesty's  feet, 
related  the  story,  and  humbly  craves  her  grace's  pleasure ;  and 
whether  my  lord  of  Leicester  was  king,  or  her  majesty  queen  ? 
Whereunto  she  replied  with  her  wonted  oath,  '  God's  death,  my 
lord,  I  have  wished  you  well  ;  but  my  favour  is  not  so  locked  up 
for  you,  that  others  shall  not  partake  thereof;  for  I  have  many 
servants,  to  whom  I  have,  and  will  at  my  pleasure,  bequeath  my 
favour,  and  likewise  resume  the  same  :  and  if  you  think  to  rule 
here,  I  will  take  a  course  to  see  you  forthcoming.  I  will  have 
here  but  one  mistress,  and  no  master  ;  and  look  that  no  ill  hap- 
pen to  him,  lest  it  be  required  at  your  hands'.  Which  words  so 
quelled  my  lord  of  Leicester,  that  his  feigned  humility  was  long 
after  one  of  his  best  virtues."* 

It  might  be  some  consolation  to  Leicester,  under  his  own  mor- 
tifications, to  behold  his  ancient  rival,  the  earl  of  Arundel,  sub- 
jected to  far  severer  ones.  This  nobleman  had  resigned  in  dis- 
gust his  office  of  lord -chamberlain  ;  subsequently,  the  queen,  on 

*  Naunton's  "  Fragraenta  Regalia." 


204 


THE  COURT  OF 


some  ground  of  displeasure  now  unknown,  had  commanded  him 
to  confine  himself  to  his  own  house  ;  and  at  the  end  of  several 
months  passed  under  this  kind  of  restraint,  she  still  denied  him 
for  a  further  term  the  consolation  and  privilege  of  approaching 
her  royal  presence.  Disgraces  so  public  and  so  lasting,  deter- 
mined him  to  throw  up  the  desperate  game  on  which  he  had  haz- 
arded so  deep  a  stake :  he  obtained  leave  to  travel,  and  hastened 
to  conceal  or  forget  in  foreign  lands  the  bitterness  of  his  disap- 
pointment and  the  embarrassment  of  his  circumstances. 

It  is  probable,  that  from  this  time  Elizabeth  found  no  more  se- 
rious suitors  amongst  her  courtiers,  though  they  flattered  her  by 
continuing,  almost  to  the  end  of  her  life,  to  address  her  in  the 
language  oi  love,  or  rather  of  gallantry.  With  all  her  coquetry, 
her  head  was  clear,  her  passions  were  cool ;  and  men  began  to 
perceive  that  there  was  little  chance  of  prevailing  with  her  to 
gratify  her  heart  or  her  fancy  at  the  expense  of  that  indepen- 
dence on  which  her  lofty  temper  led  her  to  set  so  high  a  value. 
Some  were  still  uncharitable,  unjust  enough  to  believe  that  Lei- 
cester was,  or  had  been,  a  fortunate  lover ;  but  few  now  expect- 
ed to  see  him  her  husband,  and  none  found  encouragement  suf- 
ficient to  renew  the  experiment  in  which  he  had  failed.  Not- 
withstanding her  short  and  capricious  fits  of  pride  and  anger,  it 
was  manifest  that  Leicester  still  exercised  over  her  mind  an  in- 
fluence superior  on  the  whole  to  that  of  any  other  person ;  and 
the  high  distinction  with  which  she  continued  to  treat  him,  both 
in  public  and  private,  alarmed  the  jealousy  and  provoked  the 
hostility  of  all  who  thought  themselves  entitled  by  rank,  by  re- 
lationship, or  by  merit,  to  a  larger  share  of  her  esteem  and  fav- 
our, or  a  more  intimate  participation  in  her  councils. 

One  nobleman  there  was,  who  had  peculiar  pretensions  to  su- 
persede Leicester  in  his  popular  appellation  of  "  Heart  of  the 
Court,"  and  on  whom  he  had  already  fixed  in  secret  the  watch- 
ful eye  of  a  rival.  This  was  Thomas,  duke  of  Norfolk.  Inhe- 
riting through  several  channels  the  blood  of  the  Plantagenets, — 
nearly  related  to  the  queen  by  her  maternal  ancestry,  and  con- 
nected by  descent  or  alliance  with  the  whole  body  of  the  ancient 
nobility  ;  endeared  also  to  the  people  by  many  shining  qualities, 
and  still  more  by  his  unfeigned  zeal  for  reformed  religion, — his 
grace  stood  first  amongst  the  peers  of  England,  not  in  degree 
alone,  or  in  wealth,  but  in  power,  in  influence,  and  in  public 
estimation. 

He  was  in  the  prime  of  manhood  and  lately  a  widower ;  and 
when,  in  the  parliament  of  1566,  certain  members  did  not  scru- 
ple to  maintain  that  the  queen  ought  to  be  compelled  to  marry 
for  the  good  of  her  country,  the  duke  was  named  by  some,  as  the 
earl  of  Pembroke  was  by  others,  and  the  earl  of  Leicester  by  a 
third  party,  as  the  person  whom  she  ought  to  accept  as  a  hus- 
band. It  does  not,  however,  appear  that  the  duke  himself  had 
aspired,  openly  at  least,  to  these  august  but  unattainable  nuptials. 

Elizabeth  seems  to  have  entertained  for  him  at  this  period  a 
real  regard  :  he  could  be  to  her  no  object  of  distrust  or  danger. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 


205 


and  th*k  example  which  she  was  ever  careful  to  set  of  a  scrupu- 
lous observance  of  (he  gradations  of  rank,  led  her  on  all  occa- 
sions (o  prefer  him  to  the  post  of  honour.  Thus,  after  the  peace 
with  France  in  1364,  when  Charles  IX.,  in  return  for  the  Gar- 
ter, which  the  queen  of  England  had  sent  him,  offered  to  confer 
the  order  of  St.  Michael  on  two  English  nobles  of  her  appoint- 
ment, she  named  without  hesitation  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and  the 
earl  of  Leicester. 

The  arrogance  of  Dudley  seldom  escaped  from  the  controul  of 
policy  ;  and  as  he  had  the  sagacity  to  perceive  that  the  duke  was 
a  competitor  over  whom  treachery  alone  could  render  him  finally 
triumphant,  he  cautiously  avoided  with  him  any  open  collision  of 
interests,  any  offensive  rivalry  in  matters  of  place  and  dignity. 
He  even  went  further ;  he  compelled  himself,  by  a  feigned  defe- 
rence, to  administer  food  to  that  exaggerated  self-consequence, 
— the  cherished  foible  of  the  house  of  Howard  in  general  and  of 
this  duke  in  particular,  out  of  which  he  perhaps  already  hoped 
that  matter  would  arise  to  work  his  ruin.  The  chronicles  of  the 
year  1365,  give  a  striking  instance  of  this  part  of  his  behaviour, 
in  the  information,  that  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  going  to  keep  his 
Christmas  in  his  own  county,  was  attended  out  of  London  by 
the  earls  of  Leicester  and  Warwick,  the  lord-chamberlain  and 
other  lords  and  gentlemen,  who  brought  him  on  his  journey, 
"  doing  him  all  the  honour  in  their  power." 

The  duke  was  not  gifted  with  any  great  degree  of  penetration, 
and  the  generosity  of  his  disposition  combined  with  his  vanity,  to 
render  him  generally  the  dupe  of  outward  homage  and  fair  pro- 
fessions. He  repaid  the  insidious  complaisance  of  Leicester  with 
good  will  and  even  with  confidence ;  and  it  was  not  till  all  was 
lost  that  he  appears  to  have  recognised  this  fatal  and  irreparable 
error. 

Thomas  earl  of  Sussex  was  an  antagonist  of  a  different  nature, 
— an  enemy  rather  than  a  rival,— and  one  who  sought  the  over- 
throw of  Leicester  with  as  much  zeal  and  industry  as  Leicester 
himself  sought  his,  or  that  of  the  duke ;  but  by  means  as  open  and 
courageous  as  those  of  his  opponent  were  ever  secret,  base,  and 
cowardly.  This  nobleman,  the  third  earl  of  the  surname  of  Rad- 
cliffe,  and  son  of  him  who  had  interfered  with  effect  to  procure 
more  humane  and  respectful  treatment  of  Elizabeth,  during  the 
period  of  her  adversity,  had  been  first  known  by  the  title  of  lord 
Fitzwalter,  which  he  derived  from  a  powerful  line  of  barons  well 
known  in  English  history  from  the  days  of  Henry  I.  By  his  mo- 
ther, a  daughter  of  Thomas  second  duke  of  Norfolk,  he  was  first 
cousin  to  queen  Anne  Boleyn ;  and  friendship,  still  more  than 
the  ties  of  blood,  closely  connected  him  with  the  head  of  the 
Howards.  Several  circumstances  render  it  probable  that  he  was 
not  a  zealous  protestant,  though  it  is  no  where  hinted  that  he  was 
even  secretly  attached  to  the  catholic  party.  During  the  reign 
of  Mary,  his  high  character  and  approved  loyalty  had  caused  him 
to  be  employed,  first  in  an  embassy  to  the  emperor  Charles  V., 
to  settle  the  queen's  marriage-articles ;  and  afterwards  in  the 


206 


THE  COURT  OF 


arduous  post  of  lord -deputy  of  Ireland.  Elizabeth  continued  him 
for  some  time  in  this  situation  ;  but  wishing  to  avail  herself  of 
his  counsels  and  service  at  home,  she  recalled  him  in  1565,  con- 
ferred upon  him  the  high  dignity  of  lord-chamberlain,  vacant  by 
the  resignation  of  the  earl  of  Arundel,  and  appointed  as  his  suc- 
cessor in  Ireland  his  excellent  second  in  office,  sir  Henry  Sid- 
ney, who  stood  in  the  same  relation,  that  of  brother-in-law,  to 
Sussex  and  to  Leicester,  and  whose  singular  merit  and  good  for- 
tune it  was  to  preserve  to  the  end  the  esteem  and  friendship 
of  both. 

The  ostensible  cause  of  quarrel  between  these  two  earls  seems 
to  have  been,  their  difference  of  opinion  respecting  the  Austrian 
match  ;  but  this  was  rather  the  pretext  than  the  motive  of  an  ani- 
mosity deeply  rooted  in  the  natures  and  situation  of  each,  and 
probably  called  into  action  by  particular  provocations  now  un- 
known. The  disposition  of  Sussex  was  courageous  and  sincere  ; 
his  spirit  high,  his  judgement  clear  and  strong,  his  whole  charac- 
ter honourable  and  upright.  In  the  arts  of  a  courtier,  which  he 
despised,  he  was  confessedly  inferior  to  his  wily  adversary  ;  in 
all  the  qualifications  of  a  statesman  and  a  soldier  he  vastly  ex- 
celled him. 

Sussex  was  endowed  with  penetration  sufficient  to  detect,  be- 
neath the  thick  folds  of  hypocrisy  and  artifice  in  which  he  had 
involved  them,  the  monstrous  vices  of  Leicester's  disposition ; 
and  he  could  not  without  indignation  and  disgust,  behold  a  prin- 
cess whose  blood  he  shared,  whose  character  he  honoured,  and 
whose  service  he  had  himself  embraced  with  pure  devotion,  the 
dupe  of  an  impostor  so  despicable  and  so  pernicious.  That  influ- 
ence which  he  saw  Leicester  abuse  to  the  dishonour  of  the  queen 
and  the  detriment  of  the  country,  he  undertook  to  overthrow  by 
fair  and  public  means,  and,  so  far  as  appears,  without  motives  of 
personal  interest  or  ambition  : — thus  far  all  was  well,  and  for  the 
effort,  whether  successful  or  not,  he  merited  the  public  thanks* 
But  there  mingled  in  the  bosom  of  the  high  born  Sussex  an  illi- 
beral disdain  of  the  origin  of  Dudley,  with  a  just  abhorrence  of 
his  character  and  conduct. 

He  was  wont  to  say  of  him,  that  two  ancestors  were  all  that 
he  could  number,  his  father  and  grandfather  ;  both  traitors  and 
enemies  to  their  country.  His  sarcasms  roused  in  Leicester  an 
animosity  which  he  did  not  attempt  to  disguise :  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Cecil  and  his  friends,  who  stood  neuter,  the  whole  Court 
divided  into  factions  upon  the  quarrel  of  these  two  powerful 
peers  ;  and  to  such  extremity  were  matters  carried,  that  for  some 
time  neither  of  them  would  stir  abroad  without  a  numerous  train, 
armed  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  with  daggers  and  spiked 
bucklers. 

Scarcely  could  the  queen  herself  restrain  these  "  angry  oppo- 
sites"  from  breaking  out  into  acts  of  violence  :  at  length  how- 
ever, summoning  them  both  into  her  presence,  she  forced  them  to  . 
a  reconciliation  neither  more  nor  less  sincere  than  such  pacifi- 
cations by  authority  have  usually  proved. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


207 


The  open  and  unmeasured  enmity  of  Sussex  seems  to  have 
been  productive  in  the  end  of  more  injury  to  his  own  friends  than 
to  Leicester.  The  storm  under  which  the  favourite  had  bowed 
for  an  instant,  was  quickly  overpast,  and  he  once  more  reared 
his  head  erect  and  lofty  as  before  To  revenge  himself  by  the 
ru'ni  or  disgrace  of  Sussex  was  however  beyond  his  power :  the 
well  founded  confidence  of  Elizabeth  in  his  abilities  and  his  at- 
tachment to  her  person,  he  found  to  be  immovable;  but  against 
his  friends  and  adherents,  against  the  duke  of  Norfolk  himself, 
his  malignant  arts  succeeded  but  too  well ;  and  it  seems  not  im- 
probable that  Leicester,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  without 
molestation  his  practices  against  them,  concurred  in  procuring 
for  his  adversary  an  honourable  exile  in  the  shape  of  an  embassy 
to  the  imperial  court,  on  which  he  departed  in  the  year  1567. 

After  his  return  from  this  mission  the  queen  named  the  earl  of 
Sussex  lord -president  of  the  North,  an  appointment  which 
equally  removed  him  from  the  immediate  theatre  of  court  in- 
trigue. Not  long  after,  the  hand  of  death  put  a  final  close  to 
his  honourable  career,  and  to  an  enmity  destined  to  know  no 
other  termination.  As  he  lay  upon  his  death-bed,  this  eminent 
person  is  recorded  to  have  thus  addressed  his  surrounding 
friends  :  "  I  am  now  passing  into  another  world,  and  must  leave 
you  to  your  fortunes  and  to  the  queen's  grace  and  goodness ;  but 
beware  of  the  Gipsy  (meaning  Leicester),  for  he  will  be  too  hard 
for  you  all ;  you  know  not  the  beast  so  well  as  I  do."* 

This  earl  left  no  children,  and  his  widow  became  the  munifi- 
cent foundress  of  Sidney  Sussex  college,  Cambridge.  Of  his 
negotiations  with  the  court  of  Vienna  respecting  the  royal  mar- 
riage which  he  had  so  much  at  heart,  particulars  will  be  given  in 
due  time ;  but  the  miscellaneous  transactions  of  two  or  three 
preceding  years  claim  a  priority  of  narration. 

By  a  proclamation  of  February  1566,  the  queen  revived  some 
former  sumptuary  laws  respecting  apparel ;  chiefly,  it  should 
appear,  from  an  apprehension  that  a  dangerous  confusion  of 
ranks  would  be  the  consequence  of  indulging  to  her  subjects  the 
liberty  of  private  judgment  in  a  matter  so  important.  The  fol- 
lowing clause  concerning  fencing  schools  is  appended  to  this 
instrument 

"  Because  it  is  daily  seen  what  disorders  do  grow  and  are 
likely  to  increase  in  the  realm,  by  the  increase  of  numbers  of 
persons  taking  upon  them  to  teach  the  multitude  of  common 
people  to  play  at  all  kind  of  weapons ;  and  for  that  purpose  set 
up  schools  called  schools  of  fence,  in  places  inconvenient;  tend- 
ing to  the  great  disorder  of  such  people  as  properly  ought  to 
apply  to  their  labours  and  handy  works:  Therefore  her  majesty 
ordereth  and  commandeth,  that  no  teacher  of  fence  shall  keep 
any  school  or  common  place  of  resort  in  any  place  of  the  realm, 
but  within  the  liberties  of  some  city  of  the  realm.  Where  also 
they  shall  be  obedient  to  such  orders  as  the  governors  of  the  cities 


*  Nauuton's  "  Fragments  Ke^alia.'' 


208 


THE  COURT  OF 


shall  appoint  to  them,  for  the  better  ke  eping  of  the  peace,  and 
for  prohibition  of  resort  of  such  people  to  the  same  schools  as 
are  not  mete  for  that  purpose."  &c. 

On  these  restrictions,  which  would  seem  to  imply  an  unworthy 
jealousy  of  putting  arms  and  the  skill  to  use  them,  into  the  hands 
of  the  common  people,  it  is  equitable  to  remark,  that  the  custom 
of  constantly  wearing  weapons,  at  this  time  almost  universal, 
though  prohibited  by  the  laws  of  some  of  our  early  kings,  had 
been  found  productive  of  those  frequent  acts  of  violence  and 
outrage  which  have  uniformly  resulted  from  this  truly  barbar- 
ous practice  in  all  the  countries  where  it  has  been  suffered  to 
prevail. 

From  the  description  of  England  prefixed  to  Holinshed's 
Chronicles,  we  learn  several  particulars  on  this  subject.  Few 
men,  even  of  the  gravest  and  most  pacific  characters,  such  as 
ancient  burgesses  and  city  magistrates,  went  without  a  dagger 
at  their  side  or  back.  The  nobility  commonly  wore  swords  or 
rapiers  as  well  as  daggers,  as  did  every  common  serving-man 
following  his  master.  Some  "  desperate  cutters"  carried  two 
daggers,  or  two  rapiers  in  a  sheath,  always  about  them,  with 
which  in  every  drunken  fray  they  worked  much  mischief ;  their 
swords  and  daggers  also  were  of  an  extraordinary  length  (an 
abuse  which  was  provided  against  by  a  clause  of  the  proclama- 
tion above  quoted;)  some  "  suspicious  fellows"  also  would  carry 
on  the  highways  staves  of  twelve  or  thirteen  feet  long,  with  pikes 
of  twelve  inches  at  the  end,  wherefore  the  honest  traveller  was 
compelled  to  ride  with  a  case  of  dags  (pistols)  at  his  saddle  bow, 
and  none  travelled  without  sword,  or  dagger,  or  hanger. 

About  this  time  occurred  what  a  contemporary  reporter  called 
"  an  unhappy  chance  and  monstrous  ;"  the  marriage  of  lady  Mary 
Grey  to  the  serjeant-porter :  a  circumstance  thus  recorded  by 
Fuller,  with  his  accustomed  quaintness.  "  Mary  Grey — frighted 
with  the  infelicity  of  her  two  elder  sisters,  Jane  and  this  Ca- 
therine, forgot  her  honour  to  remember  her  safety,  and  married 
one  whom  she  could  love  and  none  need  fear,  Martin  Kays,  of 
Kent,  esquire,  who  was  a  judge  at  court,  (but  only  of  doubtful 
casts  at  dice,  being  serjeant-porter,)  and  died  without  issue  the 
20th  of  April  1578."* 

The  queen,  according  to  her  usual  practice  in  similar  cases,  sent 
both  husband  and  wife  to  prison.  What  became  further  of  the  hus- 
band I  do  not  find  ;  but  respecting  the  wife,  sir  Thomas  Gresham 
the  eminent  merchant,  in  a  letter  to  lord  Burleigh  dated  in  April 
1572,  mentions,  that  the  lady  Mary  Grey  had  been  kept  in  his 
house  nearly  three  years,  and  begs  of  his  lordship  that  he  will 
make  interest  for  her  removal.  Thus  it  should  appear  that  this 
unfortunate  lady  did  not  sufficiently  "  remember  her  safety"  in 
forming  this  connexion,  obscure  and  humble  as  it  was ;  for  all 
matrimony  had  now  become  offensive  to  the  austerity  or  the  se- 
cret envy  of  the  maiden  queen. 


*  tc  Worthies  in  Leicestershire." 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


209 


Sir  Henry  Sidney,  on  arriving  to  take  the  government  of  Ire- 
land, found  that  unftappy  country  in  a  state  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary turbulence,  distraction,  ajid  misery.  Petty  insurrections  of 
perpetual  recurrence  harassed  the  English  pale  ;  and  the  native 
chieftains,  disdaining  to  accept  the  laws  of  a  foreign  sovereign 
as  the  umpire  of  their  disputes,  were  waging  innumerable  private 
wars,  which  at  once  impoverished,  afflicted,  and  barbariscd  their 
country.  The  most  important  of  these  feuds  was  one  between 
the  earls  of  Ormond  and  Desmond,  which  so  disquieted  the  queen 
that,  in  addition  to  all  official  instructions,  she  deemed  it  ne- 
cessary to  address  her  deputy  on  the  subject  in  a  private  letter 
written  with  her  own  hand.  This  document,  printed  in  the 
Sidney  papers,  is  too  valuable,  as  a  specimen  of  her  extraordinary 
style  and  her  manner  of  thinking,  to  be  omitted.  It  is  without 
date,  but  must  have  been  written  in  1565. 

t;  Letter  of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  Sir  Henry  Sidney,  on  the  Quar- 
rel between  Thomas,  earl  of  Ormond,  and  the  earl  of  Desmond, 
anno  1565. 
"  Harry, 

"  If  our  partial  slender  managing  of  the  contentious  quarrel 
between  the  two  Irish  earls  did  not  make  the  way  to  cause  these 
lines  to  pass  my  hand,  this  gibberish  should  hardly  have  cum- 
bered your  eyes ;  but  warned  by  my  former  fault,  and  dreading 
worser  hap  to  come,  I  rede  you  take  good  heed  that  the  good 
subjects  lost  state  be  so  revenged  that  I  hear  not  the  rest  won 
to  a  right  bye  way  to  breed  more  traitor's  stocks,  and  so  the  goal 
is  gone.  Make  some  difference  between  tried,  just,  and  false 
friend.  Let  the  good  service  of  well-deservers  be  never  reward- 
ed with  loss.  Let  their  thanli  be  such  as  may  encourage  mo 
strivers  for  the  like.  Sutler  not  that  Desmond's  denying  deeds, 
far  wide  from  promised  works,  make  you  to  trust  to  other  pledge 
than  either  himself  or  John  for  gage :  he  hath  so  well  performed 
his  English  vows,  that  I  warn  you  trust  him  no  longer  than  you 
see  one  of  them.  Prometheus  let  me  be,  JSpimetheus*  hath  been 
mine  too  long.  I  pray  God  your  old  strange  sheep  late,  (as  you 
say,)  returned  into  the  fold,  wore  not  her  wooly  garment  upon 
her  wolvyv  back.  You  know  a  kingdom  knows  no  kindred,  si  vio- 
landumjus  regnandi  causa.  A  strength  to  harm  is  perilous  in  the 
hand  of  an  ambitious  head.  Where  might  is  mixed  with  wit, 
there  is  too  good  an  accord  in  a  government.  Essays  be  oft  dan- 
gerous, specially  when  the  cup-bearer  hath  received  such  a  pre- 
serative  as,  what  might  so  ever  betide  the  drinker's  draught,  the 
carrier  takes  no  bane  thereby. 

"  Believe  not,  though  they  swear,  that  they  can  be  full  sound, 
whose  parents  sought  the  rule  that  they  full  fain  would  have.  I 
warrant  you  they  will  never  be  accused  of  bastardy  ;  you  were 
to  blame  to  lay  it  to  their  charge,  they  will  trace  the  steps  that 
others  have  passed  before.  If  I  had  not  espied,  though  very  late, 

*  In  the  original,  "  and  Piometheus,"  but  evidently  bv  a  mere  slip  of  the  pen, 

D  d 


210 


THE  COURT  OF 


legerdemain,  used  in  these  cases,  I  had  never  played  niy  part. 
No,  if  I  did  not  see  the  balances  held  awry,  I  had  never  myself 
come  into  the  weigh  house.  I  hope  I  shall  have  so  good  a  custo- 
mer of  you,  that  all  other  officers  shall  do  their  duty  among  you. 
If  aught  have  been  amiss  at  home,  I  will  patch  though  I  cannot 
whole  it.  Let  us  not,  nor  no  more  do  you,  consult  so  long  as  till 
advice  come  too  late  to  the  givers  :  where  then  shall  we  wish  the 
deeds  while  all  was  spent  in  words  ;  a  fool  too  late  bewares  when 
all  the  peril  is  past.  If  we  still  advise,  we  shall  never  do,  thus  are 
we  still  knitting  a  knot  never  tied  ;  yea,  and  if  our  web*  be 
framed  with  rotten  hurdles,  when  our  loom  is  welny  done,  our 
work  is  new  to  begin.  God  send  the  weaver  true  prentices 
again,  and  let  them  be  denizens  I  pray  you  if  they  be  not  citi- 
zens ;  and  such  too  as  your  ancientest  aldermen,  that  have  or 
now  dwell  in  your  official  place,  have  had  best  cause  to  com- 
mend their  good  behaviour. 

"  Let  this  memorial  be  only  committed  to  Vulcan's  base  keep- 
ing, without  any  longer  abode  than  the  reading  thereof,  yea,  and 
with  no  mention  made  thereof,  to  any  other  wight.  I  charge 
you  as  I  may  command  you.  Seem  not  to  have  had  but  secre- 
tary's letter  from  me. 

"  Your  loving  mistress, 

"Elizabeth  R.* 

In  the  month  of  June  1566,  the  qaeen  of  Scots  was  delivered 
of  a  son.  James  Melvil  was  immediately  dispatched  with  the 
happy  intelligence  to  her  good  sister  of  England :  and  he  has 
fortunately  left  us  a  narrative  of  this  mission,  which  equals  in 
vivacity  the  relation  of  his  former  visit.  "By  twelve  of  the  clock 
I  took  horse,  and  was  that  night  at  Berwick.  The  fourth  day 
after,  I  was  at  London,  and  did  first  meet  with  my  brother  sir 
Robert,  (then  ambassador  to  England,)  who  that  same  night  sent 
and  advertised  secretary  Cecil  of  my  arrival,  and  of  the  birth  of 
the  prince,  desiring  him  to  keep  it  quiet  till  my  coming  to  court 
to  shew  it  myself  unto  her  majesty,  who  was  for  the  time  at 
Greenwich,  where  her  majesty  was  in  great  mirth,  dancing  after 
supper.  But  so  soon  as  the  secretary  Cecil  whispered  in  her 
ear  the  news  of  the  prince's  birth,  all  her  mirth  was  laid  aside 
for  that  night.  All  present  marvelling  whence  proceeded  such 
a  change ;  for  the  queen  did  sit  down,  putting  her  hand  under 
her  cheek,  bursting  out  to  some  of  her  ladies,  that  the  queen  of 
Scots  was  mother  of  a  fair  son,  while  she  was  but  a  barren  stock. 

"  The  next  morning  was  appointed  for  me  to  get  audience,  at 
what  time  my  brother  and  I  went  by  water  to  Greenwich,  and 
were  met  by  some  friends  who  told  us  how  sorrowful  her  majes- 
ty was  at  my  news,  but  that  she  had  been  advised  to  show  a  glad 
and  cheerful  countenance;  which  she  did  in  her  best  apparel, 
saying,  that  the  joyful  news  of  the  queen  her  sister's  delivery  of 
a  fair  son,  which  I  had  sent  her  by  secretary  Cecil,  had  recovered 

*  The  words  web  and  loom  in  this  sentence  ought  certainly  to  be  transposed. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


211 


her  out  of  a  heavy  sickness  which  she  had  lain  under  for  fifteen 
days.  Therefore  She  welcomed  me  with  a  merry  volt,  and 
thanked  me  for  the  diligence  1  had  used  in  hasting  to  give  her 
that  welcome  intelligence,"  &c.  "  The  next  day  her  majesty 
sent  unto  me  her  letter,  with  a  present  of  a  fair  chain." 

Resolved  to  perform  with  a  good  grace  the  part  which  she  had 
assumed^  Elizabeth  accepted  with  alacrity  the  oflice  of  sponsor 
to  the  prince  of  Scotland,  sending  thither  as  her  proxies  the  earl 
of  Bedford,  Mr.  Carey,  son  of  lord  Hunsdon,  and  other  knights 
and  gentlemen ;  who  met  with  so  cordial  a  reception  from  Mary, 
— now  at  open  variance  with  her  husband,  and  therefore  desirous 
of  support  from  England, — as  to  provoke  the  jealousy  of  the 
French  ambassadors.  The  present  of  the  royal  godmother  was 
a  font  of  pure  gold,  worth  above  one  thousand  pounds  ;  in  return 
for  which,  rings,  rich  chains  of  diamond  and  pearl,  and  other 
jewels,  were  liberally  bestowed  upon  her  substitutes. 

The  birth  of  her  son  lent  a  vast  accession  of  strength  to  the 
party  of  the  queen  of  Scots  in  England  ;  and  Melvil  was  commis- 
sioned to  convey  back  to  her  from  several  of  the  principal  person- 
ages of  the  court,  warm  professions  of  an  attachment  to  her  per- 
son and  interests,  which  the  jealousy  of  their  mistress  compelled 
them  to  dissemble.  Elizabeth  on  her  part,  was  more  than  ever 
disturbed  by  suspicions  on  this  head,  which  were  kept  in  con- 
stant activity  by  the  secret  informations  of  the  armies  of  spies 
whom  it  was  her  self-tormenting  policy  to  set  over  the  words 
and  actions  of  the  Scottish  queen  and  her  English  partisans. 
The  more  she  learned  of  the  influence  privately  acquired  by 
Mary  amongst  her  subjects,  the  more,  of  course,  she  feared  and 
hated  her,  and  the  stronger  became  her  determination  never  to 
give  her  additional  consequence  by  an  open  recognition  of  her 
right  of  succession.  At  the  same  time  she  was  fully  sensible 
that  no  other  person  could  be  thought  of  as  the  inheritrix  of  her 
crown  ;  and  she  resolved,  perhaps  wisely,  to  maintain  on  this 
subject  an  inflexible  silence  :  this  policy,  however,  connected 
with  her  perseverance  in  a  state  of  celibacy,  began  to  awaken  in 
her  people  an  anxiety  respecting  their  future  destinies,  which, 
being  artfully  fomented  by  Scottish  emissaries,  produced,  in 
1566,  the  first  symptoms  of  discord  between  the  queen  and  her 
faithful  commons. 

A  motion  was  made  in  the  lower  house  for  reviving  the  suit  to 
her  majesty  touching  the  naming  of  a  successor  in  case  of  her 
death  without  posterity :  and  in  spite  of  the  strenuous  opposition 
of  the  court  party,  and  the  efforts  of  the  ministers  to  procure  a 
delay  by  declaring  "  that  the  queen  was  moved  to  marriage  and 
inclined  to  prosecute  the  same,"  it  was  carried,  and  a  committee 
appointed  to  confer  with  the  lords.  The  business  was  not  very 
agreeable  to  the  upper  house  :  a  committee  however  was  named, 
and  the  queen  soon  after  required  some  members  of  both  houses 
to  wait  upon  her  respecting  this  matter ;  when  the  lord -keeper 
explained  their  sentiments  in  a  long  speech,  to  which  her  majes- 
ty was  pleased  to  reply  after  her  darkest  and  most  ambiguous 


212  THE  COURT  OF 

manner.  "  As  to  her  marriage,"  she  said, "  a  silent  thought  might 
serve.  She  thought  it  had  been  so  desired  that  none  other  trees 
blossom  should  have  been  minded  or  ever  any  hope  of  fruit  had 
been  denied  them.  But  that  if  any  doubted  that  she  was  by  vow 
or  determination  never  bent  to  trade  in  that  kind  of  life,  she 
bade  them  put  out  that  kind  of  heresy,  for  their  belief  was  there- 
in awry.  And  though  she  could  think  it  best  for  a  private  wo- 
man, yet  she  strove  with  herself  to  think  it  not  meet  for  a  prince. 
As  to  the  succession,  she  bade  them  not  think  that  they  had 
needed  this  desire,  if  she  had  seen  a  time  so  fit ;  and  it  so  ripe 
to  be  denounced.  That  the  greatness  of  the  cause,  and  the  need 
of  their  return,  made  her  say  that  a  short  time  for  so  long  a  con- 
tinuance ought  not  to  pass  by  rote.  That  as  cause  by  conference 
with  the  learned  should  show  her  matter  worth  vtterance  for  their 
behoof,  so  she  would  more  gladly  pursue  their  good  after  her 
days,  than  with  all  her  prayers  while  she  lived  be  a  means  to 
linger  out  her  living  thread.  That  for  their  comfort,  she  had 
good  record  in  that  place  that  other  means  than  they  mentioned 
had  been  thought  of  perchance  for  their  good,  as  much  as  for 
her  own  surety  ;  which,  if  they  could  have  been  presently  or  con- 
veniently executed,  it  had  not  been  now  deferred  or  over-slipped. 
That  she  hoped  to  die  in  quiet  with  Nunc  dimittis,  which  could 
not  be  without  she  saw  some  glimpse  of  their  following  surety 
after  her  graved  bones." 

These  vague  sentences  tended  little  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
house ;  and  a  motion  was  made,  and  strongly  supported  by  the 
speeches  of  several  members,  for  reiteration  of  the  suit.  At  this 
her  majesty  was  so  incensed,  that  she  communicated  by  sir  Fran- 
cis Knowles  her  positive  command  to  the  house  to  proceed  no 
further  in  this  business,  satisfying  themselves  with  the  promise 
of  marriage  which  she  had  made  on  the  word  of  a  prince.  But 
that  truly  independent  member  Paul  Wentworth,  could  not  be 
brought  to  acquiesce  with  tameness  in  this  prohibition,  and  he 
moved  the  house  on  the  question,  whether  the  late  command  of 
her  majesty  was  not  a  breach  of  its  privileges  ?  The  queen  here- 
upon issued  an  injunction  that  there  should  be  no  debates  on  this 
point ;  but  the  spirit  of  resistance  rose  so  high  in  the  house  of 
commons  against  this  her  arbitrary  interference,  that  she  found 
it  expedient,  a  few  days  after,  to  rescind  both  orders,  making  a 
great  favour  however  of  her  compliance,  and  insisting  on  the  con- 
dition, that  the  subject  should  not  at  this  time  be  further  pursued. 

In  her  speech  on  adjourning  parliament,  she  did  not  omit  to  ac- 
quaint both  houses  with  her  extreme  displeasure  at  their  inter- 
ference touching  the  naming  of  a  successor ;  a  matter  which  she 
always  chose  to  regard  as  belonging  exclusively  to  her  preroga- 
tive ; — and  she  ended  by  telling  them,  "  that  though  perhaps 
they  might  have  after  her  one  better  learned  or  wiser,  yet  she 
assured  them  none  more  careful  over  them.  And  therefore 
henceforth  she  bade  them  beware  how  they  proved  their  prince's 
patience  as  they  had  now  done  hers.  And  notwithstanding,  not 
meaning,  she  said,  to  make  a  Lent  of  Christmas,  the  most  part 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


213 


of  them  might  assure  themselves  that  they  departed  in  their 
prince's  grace."* 

She  utterly  refused  an  extraordinary  subsidy  which  the  com- 
mons had  ottered  on  condition  of  her  naming  her  successor,  and 
even  of  the  ordinary  supplies  which  she  accepted,  she  remitted  a 
fourth,  popularly  observing,  that  it  was  as  well  for  her  to  have 
money  in  the  coffers  of  her  subjects  as  in  her  own.  By  such  an 
alternation  of  menaces  and  flatteries  did  Elizabeth  contrive  to 
preserve  her  ascendency  over  the  hearts  and  minds  of  her  people  ! 

The  earl  of  Leicester  had  lately  been  elected  chancellor  of  the 
university  of  Oxford,  and  in  the  autumn  of  1566,  the  queen  con- 
sented to  honour  with  her  presence  this  seat  of  learning,  long 
ambitious  of  such  a  distinction.  She  was  received  with  the  same 
ceremonies  as  at  Cambridge :  learned  exhibitions  of  the  same 
nature  awaited  her;  and  she  made  a  similar  parade  of  her  bash- 
fulness,  and  a  still  greater  of  her  erudition  ;  addressing  this 
university  not  in  Latin,  but  in  Greek. 

Of  the  dramatic  exhibitions  prepared  for  her  recreation,  an  ele 
gant  writer  has  recorded  the  following  particulars.!  "  In  the 
magnificent  hall  of  Christ-church,  she  was  entertained  with  a 
Latin  comedy  called  Marcus  Geminus,  the  Latin  tragedy  of 
Progne,  and  an  English  comedy  on  the  story  of  Palamon  and 
Arcite,  (by  Richard  Edwards,  gentleman  of  the  queen's  chapel, 
and  master  of  the  choristers,)  all  acted  by  the  students  of  the 
university.  When  the  last  play  was  over,  the  queen  summoned 
the  poet  into  her  presence,  whom  she  loaded  with  thanks  and 
compliments  :  and,  at  the  same  time,  turning  to  her  levee,  re- 
marked, that  Palamon  was  so  justly  drawn  as  a  lover,  that  he  must 
have  been  in  love  indeed  ;  that  Arcite  was  a  right  martial  knight, 
having  a  swart  and  manly  countenance,  yet  with  the  aspect  of  a 
Venus  clad  in  armour :  that  the  lovely  Emilia  was  a  virgin  of 
uncorrupted  purity  and  unblemished  simplicity ;  and  that  though 
she  sung  so  sweetly,  and  gathered  flowers  alone  in  the  gar- 
den, she  preserved  her  chastity  undeflowered.  The  part  of 
Emilia,  the  only  female  part  in  the  play,  was  acted  by  a  boy  of 
fourteen,  whose  performance  so  captivated  her  majesty,  that  she 
made  him  a  present  of  eight  guineas.^  During  the  exhibition,  a 
cry  of  hounds  belonging  to  Theseus  was  counterfeited  without  in 
the  great  square  of  the  college  ;  the  young  students  thought  it  a 
real  chase,  and  were  seized  with  a  sudden  transport  to  join  the 
hunters  :  at  which  the  queen  cried  out  from  her  box,  "  O  excel- 
lent !  these  boys,  in  very  troth,  are  ready  to  leap  out  of  the  win- 
dows to  follow  the  hounds  !" 

Dr.  Lawrence  Humphreys,  who  had  lately  been  distinguished 
by  his  strenuous  opposition  to  the  injunctions  of  the  queen  and 
archbishop  Parker,  respecting  the  habits  and  ceremonies,  was,  at 
this  time,  vice-chancellor  of  Oxford  ;  and  when  he  came  forth  in 

*  Strype's  "  Annals."  -\  Warton's  **  History  of  English  Poetry." 

i  Mr.  Warton  apparently  forgets  thai  gvitiean  were  first  coined  by  Charles  I], 


214  THE  COURT  OF 

procession  to  meet  the  queen,  she  could  not  forbear  saying  with 
a  smile,  as  she  gave  him  her  hand  to  kiss — "  That  loose  gown, 
Mr.  Doctor,  becomes  you  mighty  well ;  I  wonder  your  notions 
should  be  so  narrow." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

1567  and  1568. 

Terms  on  which  Elizabeth  offers  to  acknowledge  Mary  as  her 
successor, — rejected  by  the  Scots. — Death  of  Darnley. — Con- 
duct of  Elizabeth  towards  his  mother. — Letter  of  Cecil. — Letter 
of  Elizabeth  to  Mary. — Mary  marries  Bothwell — is  defeated  at 
Langside — committed  to  Loch  Leven  castle. — Interference  of 
Elizabeth  in  her  behalf — Earl  of  Sussex  ambassador  to  Vienna. 
—Letters  from  him  to  Elizabeth  respecting  the  archduke. — 
Causes  of  the  failure  of  the  marriage  treaty  with  this  prince. — 
Notice  of  lord  BuckhursL —  Visit  of  the  queen  to  Fotheringay 
castle. — Mary  escapes  from  prison — raises  an  army — is  defeat- 
ed—flies into  England. — Conduct  of  Elizabeth. — Mary  submits 
her  cause  to  her — is  detained  prisoner. — Russian  embassy. — 
Chancellor's  voyage  to  Archangel. — Trade  opened  with  Bussia. 
— Treaty  with  the  Czar. — Negotiations  between  Elizabeth  and 
the  French  court. — Marriage  proposed  with  the  duke  of  Jlnjou. 
— Privy -council  hostile  to  France. — Queen  on  bad  terms  with 
Spain. 

Notwithstanding  the  uniform  success  and  general  applause 
which  had  hitherto  crowned  her  administration,  at  no  point  per- 
haps of  her  whole  reign,  was  the  path  of  Elizabeth  more  beset  with 
perplexities  and  difficulties,  than  at  the  commencement  of  the 
year  1567. 

The  prevalence  of  the  Scottish  faction  had  compelled  her  to 
give  a  pledge  to  her  parliament  respecting  matrimony,  which 
must  either  be  redeemed  by  the  sacrifice  of  her  darling  indepen- 
dence, or  forfeited  with  the  loss  of  her  credit  and  popularity. 
Her  favourite  state -mystery, — the  choice  of  a  successor, — had 
also  been  invaded  by  rude  and  daring  hands  ;  and  to  such  ex- 
tremity was  she  reduced  on  this  point,  that  she  had  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  empower  the  commissioners  whom  she  sent  into  Scot- 
land for  the  baptism  of  the  prince,  distinctly  to  propound  the 
following  offer.  That  on  a  simple  ratification  by  Mary  of  only 
so  much  of  the  treaty  of  Edinburgh  as  engaged  her  to  advance 
no  claim  upon  the  English  crown  during  the  life-time  of  Elizabeth 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


215 


any  posterity  of  hers,  a  solemn  recognition  of  her  right  of 
succession  should  be  made  by  the  queen  and  parliament -of  Eng- 
land. 

The  Scottish  ministry,  instead  of  closing  instantly  with  so  ad- 
vantageous a  proposal,  were  imprudent  enough  to  insist  upon  a 
previous  examination  of  the  will  of  Henry  VIII.,  which  they 
fondly  believed  that  they  could  show  to  be  a  forgery :  and  the 
delay  which  the  refusal  of  Elizabeth  occasioned,  gave  time  for  the 
interposition  of  circumstances  which  ruined  forever  the  character 
and  authority  of  Mary,  and  rescued  her  sister-queen  from  this 
dilemma 

On  February  the  9th,  1567,  lord  Darnley,  then  called  king  of 
Scots,  perished  by  a  violent  and  mysterious  death.  Bothwell,  the 
queen's  new  favourite,  was  universally  accused  of  the  murder ; 
and  the  open  discord  which  had  subsisted,  even  before  the  as- 
sassination of  Rizzio,  between  the  royal  pair,  gave  strong  ground 
of  suspicion  that  Mary  herself  was  a  participator  in  the  crime, 

Elizabeth  behaved  on  this  tragical  occurrence  with  the  utmost 
decorum  and  moderation ;  she  expressed  no  opinion  hostile  to 
the  fame  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  and  took  no  immediate  measures 
of  a  public  nature  respecting  it.  It  can  scarcely  be  doubted, 
however,  that,  in  common  with  all  Europe,  she  secretly  believed 
in  the  guilt  of  Mary ;  and  even  though  at  the  bottom  of  her 
heart  she  may  have  desired  rather  to  see  her  condemned  than 
acquitted  in  the  general  verdict,  such  a  feeling  ought  not,  under 
all  the  circumstances,  to  be  imputed  to  her  as  indicative  of  any 
extraordinary  malignity  of  disposition.  To  announce  to  the 
countess  of  Lenox,  still  her  prisoner,  the  frightful  catastrophe 
which  had  closed  the  history  of  her  rash  misguided  son,  was  the 
first  step  taken  by  Elizabeth  :  it  was  a  proper,  and  even  an  in- 
dispensable one;  but  the  respectful  and  considerate  manner 
of  the  communication,  contrasted  with  former  harsh  treatment, 
might  be  designed  to  intimate  to  the  house  of  Lenox  that  it 
should  now  find  in  her  a  protectress,  and  perhaps  an  avenger. 

We  possess  a  letter  addressed  by  Cecil  to  sir  Henry  Norris, 
ambassador  in  France,  in  which  are  found  some  particulars  on 
this  subject,  oddly  prefaced  by  a  commission  on  which  it  is  amus- 
ing to  a  modern  reader  to  contemplate  a  prime  minister  at  such 
a  time,  and  with  so  much  gravity,  engaged.  But  the  division  of 
labour  in  public  offices  seems  to  have  been  in  this  age  very  im- 
perfect :  Elizabeth  employed  her  secretary  of  state  to  procure 
her  a  mantua-maker ;  James  I.  occupied  his  in  transcribing  son- 
nets of  his  own  composition. 

"  Sir  William  Cecil  to  sir  Henry  Norris.  February  20th,  1566-7. 

"  .  .  .  .  The  queen's  majesty  would  fain  have  a  taylor  that  had 
skill  to  make  her  apparel  both  after  the  French  and  Italian  man- 
ner ;  and  she  thinketh  that  you  might  use  some  means  to  obtain 
some  one  such  there  as  serveth  that  queen,  without  mentioning 
any  manner  of  request  in  the  queen's  majesty's  name.  First,  to 
cause  my  lady  your  wife  to  use  some  such  means  to  get  one  as 


THE  COURT  0* 


thereof  knowledge  might  not  come  to  the  queen  mother's  ears, 
of  whom  the  queen's  majesty  thinketh  thus  ;  That  if  she  did  un 
derstand  it  were  a  matter  wherein  her  majesty  might  be  plea- 
sured, she  would  offer  to  send  one  to  the  queen's  majesty.  Ne- 
vertheless, if  it  cannot  be  so  obtained  by  this  indirect  means, 
then  her  majesty  would  have  you  devise  some  other  good  means 
to  obtain  one  that  were  skilful. 

"  I  have  stayed  your  son  from  going  hence  now  these  two 
days,  upon  the  queen's  commandment,  for  that  she  would  have 
him  to  have  as  much  of  the  truth  of  the  circumstances  of  the 
murder  of  the  king  of  Scots  as  might  be  ;  and  hitherto  the  same 
is  hard  to  come  by,  other  than  in  a  generality.  .  .  .  The  queen's 
majesty  sent  yesterday  my  lady  Howard  and  my  wife  to  the  lady 
Lenox  to  the  Tower,  to  open  this  matter  unto  her,  who  could 
not  by  any  means  be  kept  from  such  passions  of  mind  as  the  hor^ 
ribleness  of  the  fact  did  require  And  this  last  night  were  with 
her  the  said  lady,  the  dean  of  Westminster,  and  Dr.  Huick,  and 
I  hope  her  majesty  will  show  some  favourable  compassion  of  the 
said  lady,  whom  any  humane  nature  must  needs  pity."* 

The  liberation  of  the  countess  followed  ;  and  the  earl  her  hus- 
band soon  after  gratified  Elizabeth's  desire  to  interfere,  by  in- 
voking her  assistance  to  procure,  by  representations  to  Mary, 
some  extension  of  the  unusually  short  time  within  which  he  was 
required  to  bring  forward  his  proofs  against  Bothwell,  whom  he 
had  accused  of  the  assassination  of  his  son. 

This  petition  produced  a  very  earnest  letter  from  one  queen  to 
the  other  ;  in  which  Elizabeth  plainly  represented  to  her  royal 
sister,  that  the  refusal  of  such  a  request  to  the  father  of  her  hus- 
band would  bring  her  into  greater  suspicion  than,  as  she  hoped, 
she  was  aware,  or  would  be  willing  to  hear ;  adding,  "  For  the 
love  of  God,  madam,  use  such  sincerity  and  prudence  in  this 
case,  which  touches  you  so  nearly,  that  all  the  world  may  have 
reason  to  judge  you  innocent  of  so  enormous  a  crime  ;  a  thing 
which  unless  you  do,  you  will  be  worthily  blotted  out  from  the 
rank  of  princesses,  and  rendered,  not  undeservedly,  the  oppro- 
brium of  the  vulgar ;  rather  than  which  fate  should  befal  you,  I 
should  wish  you  an  honourable  sepulture  instead  of  a  stained 
life."t 

But  to  these  and  all  other  representations  which  could  be  made 
to  her,  this  criminal  and  infatuated  woman  replied  by  marrying 
Bothwell  three  months  after  the  death  of  her  husband.  She  now  at- 
tempted by  the  most  artful  sophistries  to  justify  her  conduct  to 
the  courts  of  France  and  England  :  but  vain  was  the  endeavour 
to  excuse  or  explain  away  facts  which  the  common  sense  and  com- 
mon feelings  of  mankind  told  them  could  admit  of  neither  expla- 
nation nor  apology.  The  nobles  conspired,  the  people  rose  in 
arms  against  her  ;  and  within  a  single  month  after  her  ill-omened 

*  «  Scrinia  Ceciliana." 

f  See  the  French  original  in  Robertson's  "  History  of  Scotland, '*  vol.  iii.  Ap- 
pend, xix. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  1  21? 

nuptials,  she  saw  her  guilty  partner  compelled  to  tear  himself 
from  her  arms  and  seek  his  safety  in  flight,  and  herself  reduced 
to  surrender  her  person  into  the  power  ot  her  rebellious  subjects. 

The  battle  of  Langside  put  all  the  power  of  the  country  into 
the  hands  of  the  insurgent  nobles;  but  they  were  much  divided 
in  opinion  as  to  the  use  to  be  made  of  their  victory.  Some  wish- 
ed to  restore  Mary  to  regal  authority  under  certain  limitations ; 
— others  wanted  to  depose  her  and  proclaim  her  infant  son  in  her 
place  ; — some  proposed  to  detain  her  in  perpetual  imprisonment; 
others  threatened  to  bring  her  to  trial  and  capital  punishment  as 
an  accessary  to  the  death  of  the  king.  Meantime  she  was  de- 
tained a  prisoner  in  Loch  Leven  castle,  subjected  to  various  in- 
dignities, and  a  prey  to  the  most  frightful  apprehensions.  But 
there  was' an  eye  which  watched  over  her  tor  her  safety ;  and  it 
was  that  of  Elizabeth. 

Fears  and  rivalries,  ancient  offences  and  recent  provocations, 
— all  the  imprudence  which  she  had  censured,  and  all  the  guilt 
which  she  had  imputed,  vanished  from  the  thought  of  this  prin- 
cess the  moment  that  she  beheld  a  woman,  a  kinswoman,  and 
what  was  much  more,  a  sister-queen,  reduced  to  this  extremity 
of  distress,  and  exposed  to  the  menaces  and  insults  of  her  own 
subjects.  For  a  short  t\me  the  cause  of  Mary  seemed  to  her  as 
her  own  ;  she  interposed  in  her  behalf  in  a  tone  of  such  impera- 
tive earnestness,  that  the  Scotch  nobles,  who  feared  her  power 
and  sought  her  friendship,  did  not  dare  to  withstand  her  ;  and  in 
all  probability  Mary  at  this  juncture  owed  no  less  than  her  life 
to  the  good  offices  of  her  who  was  destined  finally  to  bring  her, 
with  more  injustice  and  after  many  years  of  sorrow,  to  an  igno- 
minious death. 

It  was  not  however  within  the  power,  if  indeed  it  were  the 
wish,  of  Elizabeth  to  restore  the  queen  of  Scots  to  the  enjoyment 
either  of  authority  or  of  freedom.  All  Scotland  seemed  at  this  pe- 
riod united  against  her ;  she  was  compelled  to  sign  a  deed  of 
abdication  in  favour  of  her  son,  who  was  crowned  king  in  July 
1567.  The  earl  of  Murray  was  declared  regent:  and  a  parlia- 
ment assembled  about  the  close  of  the  year  confirmed  all  these 
acts  of  the  confederate  lords,  and  sanctioned  the  detention  of 
the  deposed  queen  in  a  captivity  of  which  none  could  then  fore- 
see the  termination.  Elizabeth  ordered  her  ambassador  to  ab- 
stain from  countenancing  by  his  presence  the  coronation  of  the 
king  of  Scots,  and  she  continued  to  negotiate  for  the  restoration 
of  Mary :  but  her  ministers  strongly  represented  to  her  the  dan- 
ger of  driving  the  lords,  by  further  display  of  her  indignation  at 
their  proceedings,  into  a  confederacy  with  France ;  and  Throg- 
morton,  her  ambassador  in  Scotland,  urged  her  to  treat  with 
them  to  deliver  their  young  king  into  her  hands,  in  order  to  his 
being  educated  in  England. 

Some  proposal  of  this  nature  she  accordingly  made  :  but  the 
lords,  whom  former  experience  had  rendered  suspicious  of  her 
dealings,  absolutely  refused  to  give  up  their  prince  without  the 
pledge  of  a  recognition  of  his  right  of  succession  to  the  English 

E  e 


218 


THE  COURT  OF 


throne  ;  and  Elizabeth,  reluctant  as  ever  to  come  to  a  declara- 
tion on  this  point,  reluctant  also  to  desert  entirely  the  interests 
of  Mary,  with  whose  remaining  adherents  she  still  maintained  a 
secret  intercourse,  seems  to  have  abstained  for  some  time  from 
any  very  active  interference  in  the  perplexed  affairs  of  the  neigh- 
bour kingdom. 

The  recent  occurrences  in  Scotland  had  procured  Elizabeth 
some  respite  from  the  importunities  of  her  subjects  relative  to 
the  succession  ;  but  it  was  not  the  less  necessary  for  her  to  take 
some  steps  in  discharge  of  her  promise  respecting  marriage.  Ac- 
cordingly the  earl  of  Sussex,  in  this  cause  a  negotiator  no  less 
zealous  than  able,  was  dispatched  in  solemn  embassy  to  Vien- 
na, to  congratulate  the  emperor  Maximilian  on  his  coronation, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  treat  with  his  brother  the'  archduke 
Charles  respecting  his  long  agitated  marriage  with  the  queen. 
Two  obstacles  were  to  be  surmounted, — the  attachment  of  the 
archduke  to  the  catholic  faith,  and  the  repugnance  of  Elizabeth  to 
enter  into  engagements  with  a  prince  whose  person  was  unknown 
to  her.  Both  are  attempted  to  be  obviated  in  two  extant  letters 
from  the  ambassador  to  the  queen,  which  at  the  same  time  so 
well  display  the  manly  spirit  of  the  writer,  and  present  details 
so  interesting,  that  it  would  be  an  injury  to  give  their  more  im- 
portant passages  in  other  language  than  his  own. 

In  the  first  (dated  Vienna,  October  1567,)  the  earl  of  Sussex 
acquaints  her  majesty  with  the  arrival  of  the  archduke  in  that 
city,  and  his  admission  to  a  first  audience,  which  was  one  of 
ceremony  only  ;  after  which  he  thus  proceeds  : — 

"  On  Michaelmas  day  in  the  afternoon,  the  emperor  rode  m 
his  coach  to  see  the  archduke  run  at  the  ring;  who  commanded 
me  to  run  at  his  side,  and  my  lord  North,  Mr.  Cobham,  and  Mr. 
Powel  on  the  other  side:  and  after  the  running  was  done,  he 
rode  on  a  courser  of  Naples ;  and  surely  his  highness,  in  the 
order  of  his  running,  the  managing  of  his  horse  and  the  manner 
of  his  seat,  governed  himself  exceedingly  well,  and  so  as,  in  my 
judgment  it  was  not  to  be  amended.  Since  which  time  I  have 
had  diverse  conferences  with  the  emperor,  and  with  his  highness 
apart,  as  well  in  times  of  appointed  audience  as  in  several  hunt- 
ings ;  wherein  I  have  viewed,  observed,  and  considered  of  his 
person  and  qualities  as  much  as  by  any  means  I  might ;  and 
have  also  by  good  diligence  enquired  of  his  state;  and  so  have 
thought  fit  to  advertise  your  majesty  what  I  conceive  of  myself, 
or  understand  by  others,  which  1  trust  your  majesty  shall  find  to 
be  true  in  all  respects. 

"  His  highness  is  of  a  person  higher  surely  a  good  deal  than 
my  lord  marquis  ;  his  hair  and  beard  of  a  light  auburn  ;  his  face 
well  proportioned,  amiable,  and  of  a  good  complexion,  without 
show  of  redness,  or  over  paleness ;  his  countenance  and  speech 
cheerful,  very  courteous,  and  not  without  some  state;  his  body 
well  shaped,  without  deformity  or  blemish  ;  his  hands  very  good, 
and  fair ;  his  legs  clean,  well  proportioned,  and  of  sufficient  big- 
ness for  his  stature ;  his  foot  as  good  as  may  be. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


219 


•  So  as,  upon  my  duty  to  your  majesty,  I  find  not  one  defor- 
mity, mis  shape,  or  any  thing  to  be  noted  worthy  disliking  in  his 
whole  poi  son  ;  but  contrariwise,  I  find  his  whole  shape  to  be 
good,  worthy  commendation  and  liking  in  all  respects,  and  such 
as  is  rarely  to  be  found  in  such  a  prince. 

li  Ilis  highness,  besides  his  natural  language  of  Dutch,  speaketh 
very  well  Spanish  and  Italian,  and,  as  I  hear,  Latin.  His  deal- 
ings with  me  be  very  wise;  his  conversation  such  as  much  con- 
tenteth  me ;  and,  as  I  hear,  none  returneth  discontented  from 
his  company.  He  is  greatly  beloved  here  of  all  men:  the  chiefest 
gallants  of  these  parts  be  his  men,  and  follow  his  court ;  the 
most  of  them  have  travelled  other  countries,  speak  many  lan- 
guages, and  behave  themselves  thereafter ;  and  truly  we  cannot 
be  so  glad  there  to  have  him  come  to  us,  as  they  will  be  sad  here 
to  have  him  go  from  them.  -He  is  reported  to  be  wise,  liberal, 
valiant,  and  of  great  courage,  which  in  the  last  wars  he  well 
showed,  in  defending  all  his  countries  free  from  the  Turk  with 
his  own  force  only,  and  giving  them  divers  overthrows  when 
they  attempted  any  thing  against  his  rules  ;  and  he  is  universally 
(which  I  most  weigh)  noted  to  be  of  such  virtue  as  he  was  never 
spotted  or  touched  with  any  notable  vice  or  crime,  which  is  much 
in  a  prince  of  his  years,  endued  with  such  qualities.  He  de- 
lighteth  much  in  hunting,  riding,  hawking,  exercise  of  feats  of 
arms,  and  hearing  of  music,  whereof  he  hath  very  good.  He 
hath,  as  I  hear,  some  understanding  in  astronomy  and  cosmo- 
graphy, and  taketh  pleasure  in  clocks  that  set  forth  the  course 
of  the  planets. 

"  He  hath  for  his  portion  the  countries  of  Styria,  Carinthia, 
Friola,  Treiste,  and  Histria,  and  hath  the  government  of  that 
is  left  in  Croatia,  wherein,  as  I  hear,  he  may  ride  without  enter- 
ing into  any  other,  man's  territories,  near  three  hundred  miles 
....  surely  he  is  a  great  prince  in  subjects,  territories,  and  re- 
venues ;  and  liveth  in  great  honour  and  state,  with  such  a  court 
as  he  that  seeth  it  will  say  is  fit  for  a  great  prince  99  &c.  On 
October  26th,  he  writes  thus: — "  Since  the  writing  of  my  other 
letters,  upon  the  resolution  of  the  emperor  and  the  archduke,  I 
took  occasion  to  go  to  the  archduke,  meaning  to  sound  hiin  to  the 
bottom  in  all  causes,  and  to  feel  whether  such  matter  as  he  had 
uttered  to  me  before  (contained  in  my  other  letters)  proceeded 

from  him  bona  fide,  or  were  but  words  of  form  After  some 

ordinary  speech,  used  to  minister  occasion,  I  began  after  this 
sort :  '  Sir,  I  see  it  is  a  great  matter  to  deal  in  the  marriage  of 
princes  ;  and  therefore  it  is  convenient  for  me,  that  by  the  queen 
my  mistress'  order  intermeddle  in  this  negotiation,  to  foresee 
that  I  neither  deceive  you,  be  deceived  myself,  nor,  by  my  igno- 
rance, be  the  cause  that  she  be  deceived ;  in  respect  whereof, 
I  beseech  your  highness  to  give  me  leave  to  treat  as  frankly  with 
you  in  all  things,  now  I  am  here,  as  it  pleased  her  majesty  to 
give  me  leave  to  deal  with  her  before  my  coming  from  thence ; 
whereby  I  may  be  as  well  assured  of  your  disposition,  upon  your 
assured  word,  as  I  was  of  hers  upon  her  word,  and  so  proceed 


220 


THE  COURT  OF 


in  all  things  thereafter:'  Whereunto  his  highness  answered  me 
that  he  thanked  me  for  that  kind  of  dealing,  and  he  would  truly 
utter  to  me  what  he  thought  and  meant  in  all  things  that  I  should 
demand ;  which  upon  his  word  he  willed  me  to  credit,  and  I 
should  not  be  abused  myself,  nor  abuse  your  majesty.  I  then 
said  that  (your  license  granted)  I  was  bold  humbly  to  beseech 
your  majesty  to  let  me  understand  your  inward  disposition  in 
this  cause ;  and  whether  you  meant  a  lingering  entertaining  of 
the  matter,  or  a  direct  proceeding  to  bring  it  to  a  good  end, 
with  a  determination  to  consummate  the  marriage  if  conveniently 
you  might;  whereupon  your  majesty  not  only  used  such  speeches 
to  me  as  did  satisfy  me  of  your  plain  and  good  meaning  to  pro- 
ceed in  this  matter  without  delay,  if  by  convenient  means  you 
might,  but  also  give  me  in  commission  to  affirm,  upon  your  word, 
to  the  emperor,  that  ye  had  resolved  to  marry.  Ye  were  free 
to  marry  where  God  should  put  it  in  your  heart  to  like  ;  and  you 
had  given  no  grateful  ear  to  any  motion  of  marriage  but  to  this, 
although  you  had  received  sundry  great  offers  from  others ;  and 
therefore  your  majesty  by  your  letters,  and  I  by  your  command- 
ment, had  desired  of  his  majesty  some  determinate  resolution 
whereby  the  matter  might  one  ways  or  another  grow  to  an  end 
with  both  your  honours  ;  the  like  whereof  I  had  also  said  to  his 
highness  before,  and  did  now  repeat  it.  And  for  that  his  high- 
ness had  given  me  the  like  licence,  I  would  be  as  bold  with  him 
as  I  had  been  with  your  majesty;  and  therefore  beseech ed  him 
to  let  me,  upon  his  honour,  understand  whether  he  earnestly 
desired,  for  love  of  your  person,  the  good  success  and  end  of 
this  cause,  and  had  determined  in  his  heart  upon  this  marriage  ; 
or  else,  to  satisfy  others  that  procured  him  thereto,  was  con- 
tent to  entertain  the  matter,  and  cared  not  what  became  thereof ; 
that  I  also  might  deal  thereafter ;  for  in  the  one  I  would  serve 
your  majesty  and  him  truly,  and  in  the  other,  I  was  no  person 
of  quality  to  be  a  convenient  minister. 

"  His  highness  answered,  *  Count,  I  have  heard  by  the  emperor 
of  the  order  of  your  dealing  with  him,  and  I  have  had  dealings 
with  you  myself,  wherewith  he  and  I  rest  very  well  contented ; 
but  truly  I  never  rested  more  contented  of  any  thing  than  I  do 
of  this  dealing,  wherein,  besides  your  duty  to  her  that  hath  trust- 
ed you,  you  show  what  you  be  yourself,  for  the  which  I  honour 
you  as  you  be  worthy (pardon  me,  I  beseech  your  majesty,  in 
writing  the  words  he  spake  of  myself,  for  they  serve  to  utter  his 
natural  disposition  and  inclination,)  *  and  although  I  have  always 
had  a  good  hope  of  the  queen's  honourable  dealing  in  this  mat- 
ter, yet  I  have  heard  so  much  of  her  not  meaning  to  marry,  as 
might  give  me  cause  to  suspect  the  worst;  but  understanding 
by  the  emperor  of  your  manner  of  dealing  with  him,  perceiving 
that  I  do  presently  by  your  words,  I  think  myself  bound'  (where- 
with he  put  off  his  cap)  *  to  honour,  love,  and  serve  her  majesty 
while  I  live,  and  will  firmly  credit  that  you  on  her  majesty's  be-- 
half  have  said  :  and  therefore,  so  I  might  hope  her  majesty  would 
bear  with  me  for  my  conscience,  I  know  not  that  thing  in  the 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


221 


world  that  I  would  refuse  to  do  at  her  commandment:  And 
ftlirely  I  have  from  the  beginning  of  this  matter  settled  my  heart 
upon  her,  and  never  thought  of  other  wife,  if  she  would  think 
me  worthy  to  be  her  husband  ;  and  therefore  be  bold  to  inform 
her  majesty  truly  herein,  for  I  will  not  fail  of  my  part  in  any  thing, 
as  I  trust  sufficiently  appeareth  to  you  by  that  I  have  heretofore 
said.' 

"  I  thanked  his  highness  of  his  frank  dealing,  wherein  I  would 
believe  him  and  deal  thereafter.  'And  now  I  am  satisfied  in 
this,  I  beseech  your  highness  satisfy  me  also  in  another  matter, 
and  bear  with  me  though  I  be  somewhat  busy,  for  I  mean  it  for 
the  best.  I  have  many  times  heard  of  men  of  good  judgment 
and  friends  to  this  cause,  that  as  the  emperor's  majesty,  being  in 
disposition  of  the  Augustan  confession,  hath  been  forced  in  these 
great  wars  of  the  Turk  to  temporise  in  respect  of  Christendom  ; 
so  your  highness,  being  of  his  mind  inwardly,  hath  also  upon 
good  policy  forborne  to  discover  yourself  until  you  might  see 
some  end  of  your  own  causes ;  and  expecting,  by  marriage  or 
other  means,  a  settling  of  yourself  in  further  advancement  of 
state  than  your  own  patrimony,-you  temporise  until  you  see  on 
which  side  your  lot  will  fall ;  and  if  you  find  you  shall  settle  in 
this  marriage,  ye  will,  when  ye  are  sure  thereof,  discover  what 
ye  be.  If  this  be  true,  trust  me,  sir,  I  beseech  you,  and  I  will 
not  betray  you,  and  let  me  know  the  secret  of  your  heart,  where- 
by you  may  grow  to  a  shorter  end  of  your  desire  ;  and  as  I  will 
upon  my  oath  assure  you,  I  will  never  utter  your  counsel  to  any 
person  living  but  to  the  queen  my  mistress,  so  do  I  deliver  unto 
you  her  promise  upon  her  honour  not  to  utter  it  to  any  person 
without  your  consent ;  and  if  you  will  not  trust  me  herein,  com- 
mit it  to  her  majesty's  trust  by  your  own  letters  or  messenger  of 
trust,  and  she  will  not  deceive  you.' 

"  *  Surely,'  said  his  highness,  '  whoever  hath  said  this  of  me  to 
the  queen's  majesty,  or  to  you,  or  to  any  other,  hath  said  more 
than  he  knoweth,  God  grant  he  meant  well  therein.  My  ances- 
tors have  always  holden  this  religion  that  I  hold,  and  I  never 
knew  other,  and  therefore  I  never  could  have  mind  hitherto  to 
change ;  and  I  trust,  when  her  majesty  shall  consider  my  case 
well,  my  determination  herein  shall  not  hurt  me  towards  her  in 
this  cause.  For,  count,'  said  he,  '  how  could  you  with  reason 
give  me  counsel  to  be  the  first  of  my  race  that  so  suddenly  should 
change  the  religion  that  all  my. ancestors  have  so  long  holden 
when  I  know  no  other ;  or  how  can  the  queen  like  of  me  in  any 
other  thing,  that  should  be  so  light  in  changing  of  my  conscience  ? 
Where  on  the  other  side,  in  knowing  my  duty  constantly  to  God 
for  conscience,  I  have  great  hope  that  her  majesty,  with  good 
reason,  will  conceive  that  I  will  be  the  more  faithful  and  con- 
stant to  her  in  all  that  honour  and  conscience  bindeth.  And 
therefore  I  will  myself  crave  of  her  majesty,  by  my  letters,  her 
granting  of  this  my  only  request ;  and  I  pray  you  with  all  my 
heart  to  further  it  in  all  you  may;  and  shrink  not  to  assure  her 


222 


THE  COURT  OF 


majesty,  that  if  she  satisfy  me  in  this,  I  will  never  slack  to  serve 
and  satisfy  her,  while  I  live,  in  all  the  rest.' 

"In  such  like  talk,  to  this  effect,  his  highness  spent  almost 
two  hours  with  me,  whicli  I  thought  my  duty  to  advertise  your 
majesty  ;  and  hereupon  I  gather  that  reputation  ruleth  him  much 
for  the  present  in  this  case  of  religion,  and  that  if  God  couple  you 
together  in  liking,  you  shall  have  of  him  a  true  husband,  a  loving 
companion,  a  wise  counsellor  and  a  faithful  servant ;  and  we  shall 
have  as  virtuous  a  prince  as  ever  ruled  :  God  grant  ^though  you 
be  worthy  a  great  deal  better  than  he,  if  he  were  to  be  found) 
that  our  wickedness  be  not  such  as  we  be  unworthy  of  him,  or 
of  such  as  he  is."*  &c. 

It  may  be  matter  as  much  of  surprise  as  regret  to  the  reader 
of  these  letters,  that  a  negotiation  should  have  failed  of  success, 
which  the  manly  plainness  of  the  envoy  on  one  hand,  and  the 
honourable  unreserve  of  the  prince  on  the  other  had  so  quickly 
freed  from  the  customary  intricacies  of  diplomatic  transactions. 
Religion  furnished,  to  appearance,  the  only  objection  which  could 
be  urged  against  the  union  ;  and  on  this  head  the  archduke  would 
have  been  satisfied  with  terms  Hhe  least  favourable  to  himself 
that  could  be  devised.  He  only  stipulated  for  the  performance 
of  Catholic  worship  in  a  private  room  of  the  palace,  at  which 
none  but  himself  and  such  servants  of  his  own  persuasion  as  he 
should  bring  with  him  should  have  permission  to  attend.  He 
consented  regularly  to  accompany  the  queen  to  the  services  of 
the  church  of  England,  and  for  a  time  to  intermit  the  exercise  of 
his  own  religion  should  any  disputes  arise ;  and  he  engaged  that 
neither  he  nor  his  attendants  should  in  any  manner  contravene, 
or  give  countenance  to  such  as  contravened,  the  established  re- 
ligion of  the  country.  In  short,  he  asked  no  greater  indulgence 
on  this  head  than  what  was  granted  without  scruple  to  the  am- 
bassadors of  Catholic  powers.  But  even  this,  it  Was  affirmed,  was 
more  than  the  queen  could  with  safety  concede ;  and  on  this 
ground  the  treaty  was  finally  closed. 

There  is  great  room,  however,  to  suspect  that  the  real  and  the 
ostensible  reasons  of  the  failure  of  this  marriage  were  by  no 
means  the  same.  It  could  scarcely  have  been  expected  or  hoped 
that  a  prince  of  the  house  of  Austria  would  consent  to  desert  the 
religion  of  his  ancestors,  which  he  must  have  regarded  himself  as 
pledged  by  the  honour  of  his  birth  to  maintain ;  and  without  de- 
serting it  he  could  not  go  beyond  the  terms  which  Charles  actu- 
ally offered.  This  religion,  as  a  system  of  faith  and  worship, 
was  by  no  means  regarded  by  Elizabeth  with  such  abhorrence  as 
would  render  it  irksome  to  her  to  grant  it  toleration  in  a  husband, 
though  on  political  grounds  she  forbade  under  heavy  penalties  its 
exercise  to  her  subjects.  It  is  true  that  to  the  puritans  the  smal- 
lest degree  of  indulgence  to  its  idolatrous  rites  appeared  a  hei- 
nous sin,  and  from  them  the  Austrian  match  would  have  had  to 
encounter  all  the  opposition  that  could  prudently  be  made  by 

*  Lodge's  "  Illustrations,"  vol.  i. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


223 


a  sect  itself  obnoxious  to  the  rod  of  persecution.  The  duke  of 
Norfolk  is  said  to  have  given  great  offence  to  this  party,  with 
whu  h  he  was  usually  disposed  to  act,  by  the  cordial  approbation 
which  lie  was  induced,  probably  by  his  friendship  for  the  earl  of 
Sussex,  to  bestow  on  this  measure.  Leicester  is  believed  to  have 
thwarted  the  negotiations  by  means  of  one  of  his  creatures,  for 
whom  he  had  procured  the  second  rank  in  the  embassy  of  the 
earl  of  Sussex ;  he  also  laboured  in  person  to  fill  the  mind  of  the 
queen  with  fears  and  scruples  respecting  it.  But  it  is  probable 
that,  after  all,  the  chief  difficulty  lay  in  Elizabeth's  settled  aver- 
sion to  the  married  state ;  and  notwithstanding  all  her  profes- 
sions to  her  ambassador,  the  known  dissimulation  of  her  charac- 
ter permits  us  to  believe,  not  only  that  small  obstacles  were 
found  sufficient  to  divert  her  from  accomplishing  the  union  which 
she  pretended  to  have  at  heart;  but  that  from  the  very  beginning 
she  was  insincere,  and  that  not  even  the  total  sacrifice  ot  his  re- 
ligion would  have  exempted  her  suitor  from  final  disappoint- 
ment. 

The  decease  of  sir  Richard  Sackville  in  1566,  called  his  son, 
the  accomplished  poet,  to  the  inheritance  ot  a  noble  fortune,  and 
opened  to  him  the  career  of  public  life.  At  the  time  of  his  father's 
death  he  was  pursuing  his  travels  through  France  and  Italy,  and 
had  been  subjected  to  a  short  imprisonment  in  Rome,  "  which 
trouble,"  says  his  eulogist,  "  was  brought  upon  him  by  some  who 
hated  him  for  his  love  to  religion  and  his  duty  to  his  sovereign." 

Immediately  on  his  return  to  his  native  country,  the  duke  of 
Norfolk,  by  the  queen's  command,  conferred  upon  him  the  hon- 
our of  knighthood,  and  on  the  same  day  he  was  advanced  by  her 
to  the  degree  of  a  baron  by  the  style  of  lord  Buckhurst.  The 
new  peer  immediately  shone  forth  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments 
of  the  court:  but  carried  away  by  the  ardour  of  his  imagination, 
he  plunged  so  deeply  into  the  expensive  pleasures  of  the  age  as 
seriously  to  injure  his  fortune,  and  in  part  his  credit :  timely  re- 
flection however,  added,  it  is  said,  to  the  counsels  of  his  royal 
kinswoman,  cured  him  of  the  foible  of  profusion,  and  he  lived  not 
only  to  retrieve,  but  to  augment  his  patrimony  to  a  vast  amount. 

Amid  the  factions  of  the  court,  lord  Buckhurst,  almost  alone, 
preserved  a  dignified  neutrality,  resting  his  claims  to  considera- 
tion and  influence  not  on  the  arts  of  intrigue,  but  on  his  talents, 
his  merit,  his  extensive  possessions,  and  his  interest  in  his  royal 
kinswoman.  Leicester  was  jealous  of  his  approach,  as  of  that  of 
every  man  of  honour  who  affected  an  independence  on  his  sup- 
port; but  it  was  not  till  many  years  afterwards,  and  on  an  occa- 
sion in  which  his  own  reputation  and  safety  were  at  stake,  that 
the  wily  favourite  ventured  a  direct  attack  upon  the  credit  of 
lord  Buckhurst.  At  present  they  preserved  towards  each  other 
those  exteriors  of  consideration  and  respect  which  in  the  world, 
and  especially  at  courts,  are  found  so  perfectly  compatible  with 
fear,  hatred,  Or  contempt. 

It  was  about  this  time,  that  in  one  of  her  majesty's  summer 


224 


THE  COURT  OF 


progresses  an  incident  occurred  which  the  painter  or  the  poet 
might  seize  and  embellish. 

Passing  through  Northamptonshire,  she  stopped  to  visit  her 
royal  castle  of  Fortheringaj,  then,  or  soon  after,  committed  by 
her  to  the  keeping  of  sir  William  Fitzwilliam  several  times  lord- 
deputy  of  Ireland.  The  castle  was  at  this  time  entire  and  mag- 
nificent, and  must  have  been  viewed  by  Elizabeth  with  senti- 
ments of  family  pride.  It  was  erected  by  her  remote  progenitor- 
Edmund  of  Langley,  son  of  king  Edward  III.,  and  founder  of 
the  house  of  York.  By  his  directions  the  keep  was  built  in  the 
likeness  of  a  fetter-lock,  the  well  known  cognisance  of  that  line, 
and  in  the  windows  the  same  symbol  with  its  attendant  falcon 
was  repeatedly  and  conspicuously  emblazoned.  From  Edmund 
of  Langley,  it  descended  to  his  son  Edward  duke  of  York,  slain 
in  the  field  of  Agincourt,  and  next  to  the  son  of  his  unfortunate 
brother  the  decapitated  earl  of  Cambridge  ;  to  that  Richard  who 
fell  at  Wakefield  in  the  attempt  to  assert  his  title  to  the  crown, 
which  the  victorious  arms  of  his  son  Edward  IV.  afterwards  vin- 
dicated to  himself  and  his  posterity. 

In  a  collegiate  church  adjoining  were  deposited  the  remains  of 
Edward  and  Richard  dukes  of  York,  and  of  Cecily  wife  to  the 
latter,  who  survived  to  behold  so  many  bloody  deeds  of  which 
her  children  were  the  perpetrators  or  the  victims.  Elizabeth, 
attended  by  all  the  pomp  of  royalty,  proceeded  to  visit  the  spot 
of  her  ancestors'  interment:  but  what  was  her  indignation  and 
surprise  on  discovering,  that  the  splendid  tombs  which  had  once, 
risen  to  their  memory,  had  been  involved  in  the  same  destruction 
with  the  college  itself,  of  which  the  rapacious  Northumberland 
had  obtained  a  grant  from  Edward  VI.,  and  that  scarcely  a  stone 
remained  to  protect  the  dust  of  these  descendants  and  progeni- 
tors of  kings  !  She  instantly  gave  orders  for  the  erection  of  sui- 
table monuments  to  their  honour :  but  her  commands  were  ill 
obeyed,  and  a  few  miserable  plaster  figures  were  all  that  the 
illustrious  dead  obtained  at  last  from  her  pride  or  her  piety. 
These  monuments  however,  such  as  they  are,  remain  to  poste- 
rity, whilst  of  the  magnificent  castle,  the  only  adequate  comme- 
moration of  the  power  and  greatness  of  its  possessors,  one  stone 
is  not  left  upon  another  : — it  was  levelled  with  the  ground  by- 
order  of  James  I.,  that  not  a  vestige  might  remain  of  the  last  pri- 
son of  his  unhappy  mother,  the  fatal  scene  of  her  trial,  condem- 
nation, and  ignominious  death. 

The  close  of  the  year  1567,  had  left  the  queen  of  Scots  a  pri- 
soner in  Loch  Leven  castle,  her  infant  son  declared  king,  and  the 
regent  Murray, — a  man  of  vigour,  prudence,  and  in  the  main  of 
virtue, — holding  the  reins  with  a  firm  hand.  For  the  peace  and 
welfare  of  Scotland,  for  the  security  of  reformed  religion,  and  for 
the  ends  of  that  moral  retribution  from  which  the  crimes  and 
vices  of  the  rulers  of  mankind  ought  least  of  all  to  be  exempt, 
nothing  could  be  more  desirable  than  that  such  a  state  of  things 
should  become  permanent,  by  the  acquiescence  of  the  poten- 
tates of  Europe,  and  of  that  powerful  aristocracy  which  in  Scot- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


225 


land  was  unhappily  superior  to  the  whole  force  of  the  laws  and 
the  constitution,  lint  Cor  its  destruction  many  interests,  nun) 
passions  and  prejudices  conspired,  it  was  rather  against  Both- 
well  than  against  the  queen  that  many  of  the  nobles  had  taken 
arms  ;  and  more  favourable  terms  would  at  first  have  been  grant- 
ed her,  could  she  have  been  brought  to  consent  as  a  preliminary 
to  divorce  and  banish  him  for  ever  from  her  presence.  The  flight 
of  Bothwell  and  the  prolongation  of  her  own  captivity  had  sub- 
dued her  obstinacy  on  this  point:  it  was  understood  that  she 
was  now  willing  that  her  marriage  should  be  dissolved,  and  this 
concession  alone  sufficed  to  bring  her  many  partisans.  Senti- 
ments of  pity  began  to  arise  in  favour  of  an  unfortunate  queen 
and  beauty,  and  to  cause  her  crimes  to  be  extenuated  or  forgot- 
ten. All  the  catholics  in  Scotland  were  her  earnest  friends,  and 
the  foreign  princes  of  the  same  persuasion  were  unceasingly  sti- 
mulating them  to  act  openly  in  her  behalf.  With  these  Eliza- 
beth, either  by  her  zeal  for  the  common  cause  of  sovereigns,  or 
by  some  treacherous  designs  of  her  own,  was  brought  into  most 
preposterous  conjunction,  and  she  had  actually  proposed  to  the 
court  of  France  that  they  should  by  joint  consent  cut  off  all  com- 
munication with  Scotland  till  the  queen  should  be  reinstated. 

The  haughty  and  unconciliating  temper  of  Murray  had  em- 
bittered the  animosity  entertained  against  him  by  several  nobles 
of  the  blood-royal,  each  of  whom  regarded  himself  as  the  person 

;  best  entitled  to  the  office  of  regent ;  and  an  insurrection  against 
his  authority  was  already  in  contemplation,  when  Mary,  having 

|  by  her  promises  and  blandishments  bribed  an  unthinking  youth 
to  effect  her  liberation,  suddenly  re -appeared  in  readiness  to  put 
herself  at  the  head  of  such  of  her  countrymen  as  still  owned  her 
allegiance. 

Several  leading  nobles  flocked  hastily  to  her  standard  ;  a  bond 
was  entered  into  for  her  defence,  and  in  a  few  days  she  saw  her- 
iself  at  the  head  of  sis  thousand  men.  Elizabeth  made  her  an 
immediate  offer  of  troops  and  succour,  stipulating  however,  from 
a  prudent  jealousy  of  the  French,  that  no  foreign  forces  should 
be  admitted  into  Scotland  ;  and  further,  that  all  disputes  be- 
tween Mary  and  her  subjects  should  be  submitted  to  her  arbi- 
tration. 

Fortunately  for  Scotland,  though  disasterously  for  the  future 
days  of  Mary  and  the  fame  of  Elizabeth,  this  formidable  rising 
in  favour  of  the  deposed  sovereign  was  crushed  at  a  single  blow. 
Murray,  with  inferior  forces,  marched  courageously  against  the 
queen,  gained  a  complete  and  easy  victory,  and  compelled  her 
to  a  hasty  flight. 

Accompanied  only  by  a  few  attendants,  the  defeated  princess 
reached  the  English  border.  What  should  she  do  ?  Behind  her 
was  the  hostile  army,  acting  in  the  name  of  her  son  to  whom  she 
Iliad  signed  an  abdication  of  the  throne,  in  virtue  of  which  her 
late  attempt  to  reinstate  herself  might  lawfully  be  visited  with 
the  rigours  of  perpetual  imprisonment,  or  even  with  death  itself. 

Before  her  lay  the  dominions  of  a  princess  whose  titles  she 
F  f 


226 


THE  COURT  OF 


had  once  usurped,  and  whose  government  she  had  never  ceased 
to  molest  by  her  intrigues, — of  one  who  had  hated  her  as  a  com- 
petitor in  power  and  in  beauty, — as  an  enemy  in  religion,  and 
most  of  all  as  the  heiress  of  her  crown.  But  this  very  princess 
had  interfered,  generously  interfered,  to  save  her  life ;  she  had 
shown  herself  touched  by  her  situation  ;  she  had  offered  her,  un- 
der certain  conditions,  succours  and  protection.  Perhaps  she 
would  no  longer  remember  in  the  suppliant  who  embraced  her 
knees,  the  haughty  rival  who  had  laid  claim  to  her  crown  ; — per- 
haps she  would  show  herself  a  real  friend.  The  English  people 
too, — could  they  behold  unmoved  "  a  queen,  a  beauty,"  hurled 
from  her  throne,  chased  from  her  country  by  the  rude  nands  of 
her  rebellious  subjects,  and  driven  to  implore  their  aid  ?  No 
surely, — ten  thousand  swords  would  spring  from  their  scabbards 
to  avenge  her  injuries  ; — so  she  hoped,  so  the  reasoned ;  for  me- 
rited misfortune  had  not  yet  impaired  her  courage  or  abated  her 
confidence,  nor  had  the  sense  of  guilt  impressed  upon  her  mind 
one  lesson  of  humility  Her  situation,  also,  admitted  of  no  other 
alternative  than  to  confide  herself  to  Elizabeth  or  surrender  to 
Murray, — a  step  not  to  be  thought  of.  Time  pressed  ;  fear  urg- 
ed ;  and  resolved  to  throw  herself  at  the  feet  of  her  kinswoman, 
she  crossed,  never  to  return,  the  Rubicon  of  her  destiny.  A 
common  fishing-boat,  the  only  vessel  that  could  be  procured, 
landed  her  on  May  16th,  1568,  with  about  twenty  attendants,  at 
Workington  in  Cumberland,  whence  she  was  conducted  with 
every  mark  of  respect  to  Carlisle-castle ;  and  from  this  asylum 
she  instantly  addressed  to  Elizabeth  a  long  letter,  lelating  her 
fresh  reverse  of  fortune,  complaining  of  the  injuries  which  she  had 
received  at  the  hands  of  her  subjects,  and  earnestly  imploring 
her  favour  and  protection. 

With  what  feelings  this  important  letter  was  received  it  would 
be  deeply  interesting  to  enquire,  were  there  any  possibility  of 
arriving  at  the  knowledge  of  a  thing  so  secret.  If  indeed  the 
professions  of  friendship  and  offers  of  effectual  aid  lavished  by 
Elizabeth  upon  Mary  during  the  period  of  her  captivity,  were 
nothing  else  than  a  series  of  stratagems  by  which  she  sought  to 
draw  an  unwary  victim  within  her  toils,  and  to  wreak  on  her  the 
vengeance  of  an  envious  temper  and  unpitying  heart,  we  might 
now  imagine  her  exulting  in  the  success  of  her  wiles,  and  smiling 
over  the  atrocious  perfidy  which  she  was  about  to  commit.  If, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  judge  these  demonstrations  to  have  been 
at  the  time  sincere,  and  believe  that  Elizabeth,  though  profoundly 
sensible  of  Mary's  misconduct,  was  yet  anxious  to  save  her  from 
the  severe  retribution  which  her  exasperated  subjects  had  taken 
upon  them  to  exact,  we  must  imagine  her  whole  soul  agitated  at 
this  crisis  by  a  crowd  of  conflicting  thoughts  and  adverse  passions. 

In  the  first  moments,  sympathy  for  an  unhappy  queen,  and 
the  intuitive  sense  of  generosity  and  honour,  would  urge  her  to 
fulfil  every  promise,  to  satisfy  or  surpass  every  hope  which  her 
conduct  had  excited.  But  soon  the  mingled  suggestions  of  female 
honour,,  of  policy,  of  caution,  uniting  with  the  sentiment  of  habi 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH 


227 


tual  enmity,  would  arise,  first  to  moderate,  then  to  extinguish, 
her  ardour  in  the  cause  of  her  supplicant.  Further  reflection, 
enforced  perhaps  by  the  reasonings  of  her  most  trusted  counsel- 
lors, would  serve  to  display  in  tempting  colours  the  advantages 
to  be  taken  of  the  now  defenceless  condition  of  a  competitor  once 
formidable  and  always  odious;  and  gradually,  but  not  easily, 
not  without  reluctance  and  shame  and  secret  pangs  of  compunc- 
tion, she  would  suffer  the  temptation, — one,  it  must  be  confessed, 
of  no  common  force  and  aided  by  pleas  of  public  utility  not  a  lit- 
tle plausible, — to  become  victorious  over  her  first  thoughts,  her 
better  feelings,  her  more  virtuous  resolves.  For  the  honour  of 
human  nature,  it  may  be  believed  that  the  latter  state  of  feeling- 
must  have  been  that  experienced  by  a  princess  whose  life  had 
been  as  yet  unsullied  by  any  considerable  violations  of  faith,  jus- 
tice, or  humanity :  but  it  must  not  escape  remark,  that  the  first 
steps  taken  by  her  in  this  business  were  strong,  decided  in  their 
character,  and  almost  irretrievable. 

Lady  Scrope,  sister  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  was  indeed  sent 
to  attend  the  illustrious  stranger  at  Carlisle,  and  lord  Scrope 
warden  of  the  west  marches  and  sir  Francis  Knolles  the  vice- 
chamberlain  were  soon  after  dispatched  thither  with  letters  for 
her  of  kind  condolence :  but  when  Mary  applied  to  these  per- 
sons for  permission  to  visit  their  queen,  they  replied,  that,  until 
she  should  have  cleared  herself  of  the  shocking  imputation  of 
her  husband's  murder,  public  decorum  and  her  own  reputation 
must  preclude  a  princess  so  nearly  related  to  the  late  king  of 
Scots  from  receiving  her  into  her  presence.  That  it  was  however 
with  regret  that  their  mistress  admitted  this  dela^y  ;  and  as  soon 
as  the  queen  of  Scots  should  have  vindicated  herself  on  this 
point,  they  were  empowered  to  promise  her  a  reception  suited 
at  once  to  a  sovereign  and  a  kinswoman  in  distress. 

Had  not  Elizabeth  previously  committed  herself  in  some  de- 
gree by  interference  in  behalf  of  Mary,  and  by  promises  to  her 
of  support,  no  one  could  reasonably  have  blamed  the  caution  or 
the  coldness  of  this  reply  to  a  request,  which,  under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, might  justly  be  taxed  with  effrontery.  But  in  the 
judgment  of  Mary  and  her  friends,  and  perhaps  even  of  more 
impartial  judges,  the  part  already  taken  by  Elizabeth  had  de- 
prived her  of  the  right  of  recurring  to  former  events  as  a  plea 
for  the  exclusion  of  the  queen  of  Scots  from  her  presence  and 
favour. 

Tears  of  grief  and  anger  burst  from  the  eyes  of  Mary  on  this 
unexpected  check,  which  struck  her  heart  with  the  most  melan- 
choly forebodings  ;  but  aware  of  the  necessity  of  disguising  fears 
which  would  pass  for  an  evidence  of  guilt,  she  hastily  replied, 
that  she  was  willing  to  submit  her  whole  conduct  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  queen  her  sister,  and  did  not  doubt  of  being  able  to 
produce  such  proofs  of  her  innocence  as  would  satisfy  her  and 
confound  her  enemies. 

This  was  enough  for  Elizabeth  :  she  was  now  constituted  um- 
pire between  the  queen  of  Scots  and  her  subjects,  and  the  future 


228 


THE  COURT  OF 


fate  of  both  might  be  said  to  lie  in  her  hands  ;  in  the  mean  time 
she  had  gained  a  pretext  for  treating  as  a  culprit  the  party  who 
had  appealed  to  her  tribunal.  We  learn  that  lord  Scrope  and 
sir  Francis  Knolles  had  from  the  first  received  secret  instruc- 
tions not  only  to  watch  the  motions  of  Mary,  but  to  prevent  her 
departure ;  her  person  had  also  been  surrounded  with  sentinels 
under  the  semblance  of  a  guard  of  honour.  But  hitherto  these 
measures  of  precaution  had  probably  remained  concealed  from 
their  object;  they  were  now  gradually  replaced  by  others  of  a 
more  open  and  decided  character,  and  it  was  not  much  longer 
permitted  to  the  hapless  fugitive  to  doubt  the  dismal  truth,  that 
she  was  once  more  a  prisoner. 

Alarmed  at  her  situation,  and  secretly  conscious  how  ill  her 
conduct  would  stand  the  test  of  judicial  inquiry,  Mary  no  sooner 
learned  that  Elizabeth  had  actually  named  commissioners  to 
hear  the  pleadings  on  both  sides,  and  written  to  summon  the  re- 
gent to  produce  before  them  whatever  he  could  bring  in  justifi- 
cation of  his  conduct  towards  his  sovereign,  than  she  hastened  to 
retract  her  former  unwary  concession. 

In  a  letter  full  of  impotent  indignation,  assumed  majesty  and 
real  dismay,  she  now  sought  to  explain  away  or  evade  her  late 
appeal.  She  repeated  her  demand  of  admission  to  the  presence 
of  Elizabeth,  refused  to  compromise  her  royal  dignity  by  sub- 
mitting to  a  trial  in  which  her  own  subjects  were  to  appear  as 
parties  against  her,  and  ended  by  requiring  that  the  queen  would 
either  furnish  her  with  that  assistance  which  it  behoved  her  more 
than  any  one  to  grant,  or  would  suffer  her  to  seek  the  aid  of 
other  princes  whose  delicacy  on  this  head  would  be  less,  or  their 
resentment  of  her  wrongs  greater.  This  last  proposal  might  have 
suggested  to  Elizabeth  the  safest,  easiest,  and  most  honourable 
mode  of  extricating  herself  from  the  dilemma  in  which,  by  fur- 
ther intermeddling  in  the  concerns  of  Scotland,  she  was  likely 
to  become  involved.  Happy  would  it  have  been  for  her  credit 
and  her  peace  of  mind,  had  she  suffered  her  perplexing  guest  to 
depart  and  seek  for  partisans  and  avengers  elsewhere  !  But  her 
pride  of  superiority  and  love  of  sway  were  flattered  by  the  idea 
of  arbitrating  in  so  great  a  cause ;  her  secret  malignity  enjoyed 
the  humiliation  of  her  enemy ;  and  her  characteristic  caution 
represented  to  her  in  formidable  colours  the  danger  of  restoring 
to  liberty  one  whom  she  had  already  offended  beyond  forgive- 
ness. She  laid  Mary's  letter  before  her  privy-council;  and 
these  confidential  advisers,  after  wisely  and  uprightly  deciding 
that  it  would  be  inconsistent  with  the  honour  and  safety  of  the 
queen  and  her  government  to  undertake  the  restoration  of  the 
queen  of  Scots,  were  induced  to  add,  that  it  would  also  be  un- 
safe to  permit  her  departure  out  of  the  kingdom,  and  that  the 
inquiry  into  her  conduct  ought  to  be  pursued. 

In  spite  of  her  remonstrances,  Mary  was  immediately  remov- 
ed to  Bolton-castle  in  Yorkshire,  a  seat  of  lord  Scrope's;  her 
communications  with  her  own  country  were  cutoff*;  her  confine- 
ment was  rendered  more  strict ;  and  by  secret  promises  from 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


9.9,9 


Elizabeth  of  finally  causing  her  to  be  restored  to  her  throne  un- 
der certain  limitations,  she  was  led  to  renew  her  consent  to  the 
trial  of  her  cause  in  England,  and  to  engage  herself  to  name 
commissioners  to  confer  with  those  of  the  regent  and  of  Eliza- 
beth at  York. 

It  would  be  foreign  from  the  purpose  of  the  present  work  to 
engage  in  a  regular  narrative  or  the  celebrated  proceedings  be- 
gun soon  after  at  the  city  last  mentioned;  and  ended  at  West- 
minster :  some  remarkable  circumstances,  illustrative  of  the  cha- 
racter of  the  English  princess,  or  connected  with  the  tate  of  her 
principal  noble,  will  however  be  related  hereafter,  as  well  as  their 
final  result ; — at  present  other  subjects  claim  attention. 

An  embassy  arrived  in  London  in  1567,  from  Ivan  Basilowitz, 
czar  of  Muscovy,  the  second  which  had  been  addressed  to  an 
English  sovereign  from  that  country,  plunged  as  yet  in  barbar- 
ous ignorance,  and  far  from  anticipating  the  day  when  it  should 
assume  a  distinguished  station  in  the  system  of  civilised  Europe. 

It  was  by  a  bold  and  extraordinary  enterprise  that  the  barrier 
of  the  Frozen  Sea  had  been  burst,  and  a  channel  of  communica- 
tion open  between  this  country  and  Russia,  by  means  of  which 
an  intercourse  highly  beneficial  to  both  nations  was  now  begun  ; 
the  leading  circumstances  were  the  following : 

During  the  reign  of  Henry  VI [.,  just  after  the  unparalleled 
achievement  of  Columbus  had  rendered  voyages  of  discovery  the 
ruling  passion  of  Europe,  a  Venetian  pilot,  named  Cabot,  who 
had  resided  long  in  Bristol,  obtained  from  this  monarch,  for  him- 
self and  his  sons  a  patent  for  making  discoveries  and  conquests 
in  unknown  regions.  By  this  navigator  and  his  son  Sebastian, 
Newfoundland  was  soon  after  discovered  ;  and  by  Sebastian,  after 
his  father's  death  a  long  series  of  maritime  enterprises  were  sub- 
sequently undertaken  with  various  success.  For  many  years  he 
was  in  the  service  of  Spain :  but  returning  to  England  at  the 
close  of  Henry  VIIPs  reign,  he  was  received  with  merited  fav- 
our at  court.  Young  king  Edward  listened  with  eagerness  to  the 
relations  of  the  aged  navigator;  and  touched  by  the  unquench- 
able ardour  of  discovery  which  still  burned  in  the  bosom  of  this 
contemporary  and  rival  of  Columbus,  granted  with  alacrity  his 
royal  license  for  the  fitting  out  of  three  ships  to  explore  a  north 
passage  to  the  East  Indies.  The  instructions  for  this  voyage 
were  drawn  up  in  a  masterly  manner  by  Cabot  himself,  and  the 
command  of  the  expedition  was  given  to  sir  Hugh  Willoughbv, 
and  under  him  to  Richard  Chancellor,  a  gentleman  who  had  Ion  <• 
been  attached  to  the  service  of  the  excellent  sir  Henry  Sidney, 
by  whom  he  was  recommended  to  this  appointment  in  the  warm- 
est terms  of  affection  and  esteem. 

The  ships  were  separated  by  a  tempest  off  the  Norwegian 
coast ;  and  Willoughby,  having  encountered  much  foul  weather, 
and  judging  the  season  too  far  advanced  to  proceed  on  so  haz- 
ardous a  voyage,  laid  up  his  vessel  in  a  bay  on  the  shore  of  Lap- 
land, with  the  purpose  of  awaiting  the  return  of  spring.  But 
.such  was  the  rigour  of  the  season  on  this  bleat:  and  inhospitable 


^230 


THE  COURT  OF 


coast,  that  the  admiral  and  his  whole  crew  were  frozen  to  deaii; 
in  their  cabin.  Chancellor,  in  the  mean  time,  by  dint  of  supe- 
rior sailing,  was  enabled  to  surmount  the  perils  of  the  way.  He 
doubled  the  North  Cape,  a  limit  never  passed  by  English  keel 
before,  and  still  proceeding  eastward,  found  entrance  into  an  un- 
known gulf,  which  proved  to  be  the  White  Sea,  and  dropped  an- 
chor at  length  in  the  port  of  Archangel. 

The  rude  natives  were  surprised  and  terrified  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  strange  vessel  much  superior  in  size  to  any  whicn  they 
had  before  beheld  ;  but  after  a  time,  venturing  on  an  intercourse 
with  the  navigators,  they  acquainted  them,  that  they  were  sub- 
jects of  the  czar  of  Muscovy,  and  that  they  had  sent  to  apprise 
him  of  so  extraordinary  an  arrival.  On  the  return  of  the  mes- 
senger, Chancellor  received  an  invitation  to  visit  the  court  of 
Moscow.  The  czar,  barbarian  as  he  was  in  manners  and  habits, 
possessed  however  strong  sense  and  an  inquiring  mind  ;  he  had 
fornied  great  projects  for  the  improvement  of  his  empire,  and  he 
was  immediately  and  fully  aware  of  the  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  a  direct  communication  by  sea  with  a  people  capable  of 
supplying  his  country  with  most  of  the  commodities  which  it 
now  received  from  the  southern  nations  of  Europe  by  a  tedious 
and  expensive  land-carriage.  He  accordingly  welcomed  the  Eng- 
lishmen with  distinguished  honours;  returned  a  favourable  an- 
swer to  the  letter  from  king  Edward  of  which  they  were  the 
bearers,  and  expressed  his  willingness  to  enter  into  commercial 
relations  with  their  country,  and  to  receive  an  ambassador  from 
their  sovereign.  Edward  did  not  live  to  learn  the  prosperous 
success  of  this  part  of  the  expedition,  but  fortunately  his  suc- 
cessor extended  equal  encouragement  to  the  enterprise.  A  Rus- 
sia company  was  formed,  of  which  the  veteran  Sebastian  Cabot 
was  made  governor,  and  Chancellor  was  dispatched  on  a  second 
voyage,  charged  with  further  instructions  for  the  settlement  of  a 
commercial  treaty.  Mis  voyage  was  again  safe  and  prosperous, 
and  he  was  accompanied  on  his  return  by  a  Russian  ambassador; 
but  off  the  coast  of  Scotland  the  ship  was  unhappily  wrecked, 
and  Chancellor  with  several  other  persons  was  drowned ;  the 
ambassador  himself  reaching  the  land  with  much  difficulty. 
The  vessel  was  plundered  of  her  whole  cargo  by  the  neighbour- 
ing peasantry  ;  but  the  ambassador  and  his  train  were  hospitably 
entertained  by  the  queen-regent  of  Scotland,  and  for  warded  on 
their  way  to  London,  where  their  grotesque  figures  and  the 
barbaric  pomp  of  their  dress  and  equipage  astonished  the  court 
and  city. 

The  present  embassy,  which  reached  its  destination  without 
accident,  was  one  of  greater  importance,  and  appeared  with  su- 
perior dignity.  It  conveyed  to  the  queen,  besides  all  verbal  as- 
surances of  the  friendship  of  the  czar,  a  magnificent  present  of 
the  richest  furs,  and  other  articles  of  great  rarity ;  and  the  am- 
bassadors had  it  in  charge  to  conclude  a  treaty  of  amity  and  com-, 
merce,  of  which  the  terms  proved  highly  advantageous  for  Eng- 
land.   They  were  accompanied  by  an  Englishman  named  Jen- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


231 


kinson,  who  had  been  sent  out  several  years  before,  by  the  Rus- 
sia company,  to  explore  the  southern  and  easterm  limits  of  that 
vast  empire,  and  to  endeavour  to  open  an  overland  trade  with 
Persia.  By  the  assistance  of  the  czar  he  had  succeeded  in  (his 
object,  and  was  the  first  Englishman  who  ever  sailed  upon  the 
Caspian,  or  travelled  over  the  wild  region  which  lies  beyond,  lu 
return  for  all  favours,  he  had  now  undertaken  on  behalf  of  the 
czar  to  propose  to  his  own  sovereign  certain  secret  articles  in 
which  this  prince  was  more  deeply  interested  than  in  any  com- 
mercial matters,  and  which  he  deemed  it  unsafe  to  commit  to 
the  fidelity  or  discretion  of  his  own  ambassadors. 

Ivan,  partly  by  a  marked  preference  shown  to  foreigners, 
which  his  own  barbarians  could  not  forgive,  partly  by  his  many 
acts  of  violence  and  cruelty,  had  highly  incensed  his  subjects 
against  him.  In  the  preceding  year,  a  violent  insurrection  had 
nearly  hurled  him  from  the  throne  ;  and  still  apprehensive  of 
some  impending  disaster,  he  now  proposed  to  the  queen  of  Eng- 
land a  league  offensive  and  defensive,  of  which  he  was  anxious  to 
make  it  an  article,  that  she  should  bind  herself  by  oath  to  grant 
a  kind  and  honourable  receptiou  in  her  dominions  to  himself,  his 
wife  and  children,  should  any  untoward  event  compel  them  to 
quit  their  country.  But  that  never-failing  caution,  which  in  all 
the  complication  and  diversity  of  her  connections  with  foreign 
powers,  withheld  Elizabeth  from  ever,  in  a  single  instance,  com- 
mitting herself  beyond  the  pow  er  of  retreat,  caused  her  to  waive 
compliance  with  the  extraordinary  proposal  of  Ivan.  She  enter- 
tained his  ambassadors  however  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  gra- 
tified his  wishes  in  every  point  where  prudence  would  permit, 
and  finally  succeeded,  by  the  adroitness  of  her  management,  in 
securing  for  her  country,  without  sacrifice  or  hazard  on  her  own 
part,  every  real  benefit  which  an  intercourse  with  such  a  people 
and  such  a  sovereign  appeared  capable  of  affording.  To  have 
come  off  with  advantage  in  a  trial  of  diplomatic  skill  with  a  bar- 
barous czar  of  Muscovy,  was  however  an  exploit  of  which  a  civi- 
lised politician  would  be  ashamed  to  boast, — on  him  no  glory 
could  be  won, — and  we  may  imagine  Elizabeth  turning  from  him 
with  a  kind  of  disdain  to  an  antagonist  more  worthy  of  her 
talents. 

The  king  and  court  of  France  were  at  this  time  subjected  to 
the  guidance  of  the  execrable  Catherine  dei  Medici.  To  this  wo- 
man the  religious  differences  which  then  agitated  Europe  were  in 
themselves  perfectly  indifferent,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion 
she  had  allowed  it  to  be  perceived  that  they  were  so :  but  a  close 
and  dispassionate  study  of  the  state  of  parties  in  her  son's  king- 
dom, had  at  length  convinced  her  that  it  was  necessary  to  the 
establishment  of  his  authority  and  her  own  consequence,  that 
the  Hugonot  faction  should  be  crushed,  and  she  stood  secretly 
prepared  and  resolved  to  procure  the  accomplishment  of  this  ob- 
ject by  measures  of  perfidy  and  atrocity  from  which  bigotry  it- 
self, in  a  mind  not  totally  depraved,  must  have  revolted.  „ 

By  the  -secret  league  of  Bayonne,  the  courts  of  France  and 


THE  COURT  OF 


Spain  had  pledged  themselves  to  pursue  in  concert  the  great 
work  of  the  extirpation  of  heresy ;  and  while  Catherine  was  lay- 
ing hidden  trains  for  the  destruction  of  the  Hugonots,  Philip  II., 
by  measures  of  open  force  and  relentless  cruelty,  was  striving  to 
annihilate  the  protestants  of  the  Low  Countries,  and  to  impose 
upon  those  devoted  provinces  the  detested  yoke  of  the  inqui- 
sition, 

Elizabeth  was  aware  of  all  that  was  going  on ;  and  she  well 
knew  that  when  once  these  worthy  associates  had  succeeded  in 
crushing  the  reformation  in  their  own  dominions,  Scotland  and 
England  would  become  the  immediate  theatre  of  their  operations. 
Already  were  the  catholics  of  the  two  countries  privately  encou- 
raged ro  rely  on  them  for  support,  and  incited  to  aid  the  com- 
mon cause  by  giving  all  the  disturbance  in  their  power  to  their 
respective  governments. 

Considerations  of  policy  therefore,  no  less  than  of  religion, 
moved  her  to  afford  such  succours,  first  to  the  French  protes- 
tants and  afterwards  to  the  Flemings,  as  might  enable  them  to 
prolong  at  least  the  contest ;  but  her  caution  and  her  frugality 
conspired  to  restrain  her  from  involving  herself  in  actual  war- 
fare for  the  defence  of  either.  At  the  very  time  therefore  that 
she  was  secretly  supplying  the  Hugonots  with  money  and  giving 
them  assurances  of  her  support,  she  was  more  than  ever  atten- 
tive to  preserve  all  the  exteriors  of  friendship  with  the  court  of 
France. 

It  suited  the  views  of  the  queen-mother  to  receive  with  com- 
placency and  encouragement  the  dissembling  professions  of  Eli- 
zabeth ;  by  which  she  was  not  herself  deceived,  but  which  served 
to  deceive  and  to  alarm  her  enemies  the  protestants,  and  in  some 
measure  to  mask  her  designs  against  them.  We  have  seen  what 
high  civilities  had  passed  between  the  courts  on  occassion  of  the 
admission  of  the  French  king  into  the  order  of  the  garter, — but 
this  is  little  to  what  followed. 

In  1 568,  after  the  remonstrances  and  intercession  of  Elizabeth, 
the  succours  lent  by  the  German  protestants,  and  the  strenuous 
resistance  made  by  the  Hugonots  themselves,  had  procured  for 
this  persecuted  sect  a  short  and  treacherous  peace,  Catherine,  in 
proof  and  confirmation  of  her  entire  friendship  with  the  queen  of 
England,  began  to  drop  hints  to  her  ambassador  of  a  marriage 
between  his  mistress  and  her  third  son  the  duke  of  Anjou,  then 
only  seventeen  years  of  age.  Elizabeth  was  assuredly  not  so 
much  of  a  dupe  as  to  believe  the  queen-mother  sincere  in  this 
strange  proposal ;  yet  it  was  entertained  by  her  with  the  utmost 
apparent  seriousness.  She  even  thought  proper  to  give  it  a  cer- 
tain decree  of  cautious  encouragement,  which  Catherine  was 
doubtless  well  able  rightly  to  interpret ;  and  with  this  extraor- 
dinary kind  of  mutual  understanding,  these  two  ingenious  females 
continued  for  months,  nay  years,  to  amuse  themselves  and  one 
another  with  the  representation  of  carrying  on  of  negotiations  for 
a  treaty  of  marriage.  Elizabeth,  with  the  most  candid  and  natu- 
ral air  in  the  world,  remarked  that  difference  of  religion  would 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


■present  the  most  serious  obstacle  to  so  desirable  an  union  :  Ca- 
therine, with  equal  plausibility,  hoped  that,  on  this  point  terms  of 
igreement  might  be  found  satisfactory  to  both  parties;  anil  warm 
ing  as  they  proceeded,  one  began  to  imagine  the  conditions  to 
which  a  catholic  prince  could  with  honour  accede,  and  the  other 
to  invent  the  objections  which  ought  to  be  made  to  them  by  a  pro- 
testant  princess. 

The  philosophical  inquirer,  who  has  learned  from  the  study  of 
history  how  much  more  the  high  destinies  of  nations  are  governed 
by  the  permanent  circumstances  of  geographical  position  and  re- 
lative force,  and  the  great  moral  causes  which  act  upon  whole 
ages  and  peoples,  than  by  negotiations,  intrigues,  schemes  of 
politicians,  and  tricks  of  state,  will  be  apt  to  regard  as  equally 
futile  and  base  the  petty  manoeuvres  of  dissimulation  and  artifice 
employed  by  each  queen  to  incline  in  her  own  favour  the  political 
balance.  But  in  justice  to  the  memories  of  Catherine  and  Eliza- 
beth,— women  whom  neither  their  own  nor  any  after-times  have 
taxed  with  folly, — it  ought  at  least  to  be  observed,  that  in  mis- 
taking the  excess  of  falsehood  for  the  perfection  of  address,  the 
triumphs  of  cunning  for  the  master-pieces  of  public  wisdom,  they 
tlid  but  partake  the  error  of  the  ablest  male  politicians  of  that  age 
of  statesmen.  The  same  narrow  views  of  the  interest  of  princes 
and  of  states  governed  them  all :  they  seem  to  ha  ve  believed  that 
the  right  and  the  expedient  were  constantly  opposed  to  each 
other;  in  the  intercourses  of  public  men  they  thought  that  no- 
thing was  more  carefully  to  be  shunned  than  plain  speaking  and 
direct  dealings,  and  in  these  functionaries  they  regarded  the  use 
of  every  kind  of  "  indirection"  as  allowable,  because  absolutely 
essential  to  the  great  end  of  serving  their  country. 

Amongst  the  wiser  and  better  part  of  Elizabeth's  council  how- 
ever, such  a  profound  abhorrence  of  the  measures  of  the  French 
court  at  this  time  prevailed,  and  such  an  honest  eagerness  to 
join  heart  and  hand  with  the  oppressed  Hugonots  for  the  redress 
of  their  intolerable  grievances,  that  it  required  all  her  vigilance 
and  address  to  keep  them  within  the  limits  of  that  temporising 
moderation  which  she  herself  was  bent  on  preserving. 

In  the  correspondence  of  Cecil  with  sir  Henry  Norris,  then 
ambassador  in  France,  the  bitterness  of  his  feelings  is  perpetu- 
ally breaking  out,  and  he  cannot  refrain  from  relating  with  ex- 
treme complacency  such  words  of  displeasure  as  her  majesty 
was  at  any  time  moved  to  let  fall  against  her  high  allies.  In 
November  1567,  when  civil  war  had  again  broken  out  in  Fiance, 
he  acquaints  the  ambassador  that  the  queen  dislikes  to  give  as- 
sistance to  Conde  and  his  party  against  their  sovereign,  but  re- 
commends it  to  him  to  do  it  occasionally  notwithstanding,  as  the 
council  are  their  friends. 

In  September  1568  he  writes  thus  :  "  The  French  ambassador 
lias  sent  his  nephew  to  require  audience,  and  that  it  might  be 
ordered  to  have  her  majesty's  council  present  at  the  bishop's 
missado.  Her  majesty's  answer  was,  that  they  forgot  themselves, 
in  coming  from  a  king  that  was  but  young,  to  think  her  not  able 


234 


THE  COURT  OF 


to  conceive  an  answer  without  her  council:  and  although  she 
could  use  the  advice  of  her  council,  as  was  meet,  yet  she  saw  no 
cause  why  they  should  thus  deal  with  her,  being  of  full  years, 
and  governing  her  realm  in  better  sort  than  France  was.  So 
the  audience,  being  demanded  on  Saturday,  was  put  off'  till 
Tuesday,  wheYewith  I  think  they  are  not  contented."  Again  : 
"  Monsieur  de  Montausier  ....  was  brought  to  the  queen's  pre- 
sence to  report  the  victory  which  God  had  given  the  French 
king  by  a  battle,  as  he  termed  it,  wherein  was  slain  the  prince 
of  Conde ;  whereunto,  as  I  could  conceive,  her  majesty  answered, 
that  of  any  good  fortune  happening  to  the  king  she  was  glad  ; 
but  that  she  thought  it  also  to  be  condoled  with  the  king,  that  it 
should  be  counted  a  victory  to  have  a  prince  of  his  blood  slain ; 
and  so  with  like  speech,  not  fully  to  their  contentation."* 

With  the  Spanish  court  the  queen  was  on  the  worst  possible 
terms  short  of  open  hostilities.  Her  ambassador  at  Madrid  had 
been  banished  from  the  city  to  a  little  village  in  the  neighbour- 
hood ;  the  Spanish  ambassador  at  London  had  been  placed  under 
guard  for  dispersing  libels  against  her  person  and  government ; 
and  in  consequence  of  her  adroit  seizure  of  a  sum  of  money  be- 
longing to  some  Genoese  merchants  designed  as  Na  loan  to  the 
duke  of  Alva,  to  enable  him  to  carry  on  the  war  against  the  pro- 
tectants in  Flanders,  the  king  of  Spain  had  ordered  all  commerce 
to  be  broken  off  between  those  provinces  and  England. 

In  the  midst  of  these  menaces  of  foreign  war,  cabals  were 
forming  against  Elizabeth  in  her  own  kingdom  and  court  which 
threatened  her  with  nearer  dangers.  Of  all  these  plots,  the 
Scottish  queen  was,  directly  or  indirectly,  the  cause  or  the  pre- 
text ;  and  in  order  to  place  them  in  a  clear  light,  it  will  now  be 
necessary  to  return  to  the  conferences  at  York. 


*  Scrinia  Cecil  iana, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

1568  to  1570. 

Proceedings  of  the  commissioners  at  York  in  the  cause  of  Mary. 
— Intrigues  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk  with  the  regent  Murray. — 
The  conferences  transferred  to  Westminster. — Mary^s  guilt  dis- 
closed.— French  intrigues  of  Norfolk. — Conspiracy  for  procur- 
ing his  marriage  with  Mary. — Conduct  of  Throgmorton. — 
Attempt  to  ruin  Cecil  baffled  by  the  queen. — Endeavour  of  Sus- 
sex to  reconcile  Norfolk  and  Cecil. — Norfolk  betrayed  by  Leices- 
ter— his  plot  revealed — committed  to  the  Tower. — Mary  given 
in  charge  to  the  earl  of  Huntingdon. — Remarks  on  this  subject 
— Notice  of  Leonard  Dacre — of  the  earls  of  Westmorland  and 
Northumberland. — Their  rebellion. — Particulars  of  the  Norton 
family. — severities  exercised  against  the  rebels. — Conduct  of  the 
earl  of  Sussex. — Rising  under  Leonard  Dacre. — His  after-for- 
tunes and  those  of  his  family. — Expedition  of  the  earl  of  Sussex 
into  Scotland. — Murder  of  regent  Murray. — Influence  of  this 
event  on  the  affairs  of  Elizabeth. — Campaign  in  Scotland. — 
Papal  bull  against  the  queen. — Trifling  effect  produced  by  it. — 
Attachment  of  the  people  to  her  government. 

The  three  commissioners  named  by  Elizabeth  to  sit  as 
judges  in  the  great  cause  between  Mary  and  her  subjects,  of 
which  she  had  been  named  the  umpire,  were  the  duke  of  Nor- 
folk, the  earl  of  Sussex,  and  sir  Ralph  Sadler,  a  very  able  nego- 
tiator and  a  man  of  business.  On  the  part  of  the  Scottish  nation, 
the  regent  Murray,  fearing  to  trust  the  cause  in  other  hands,  ap- 
peared in  person,  attended  by  several  men  of  talent  and  conse- 
quence. The  situation  of  Mary  herself  was  not  more  critical  or 
more  unprecedented,  and  scarcely  more  humiliating  than  that 
in  which  Murray  was  placed  by  her  appeal  to  Elizabeth.  Act- 
ing on  behalf  of  the  infant  king  his  nephew,  he  saw  himself  call- 
ed upon  to  submit  to  the  tribunal  of  a  foreign  sovereign  such 
proofs  of  the  atrocious  guilt  of  the  queen  his  sister,  as  should  jus- 
tify in  the  eyes  of  this  sovereign,  and  in  those  of  Europe,  the  de- 
gradation of  Mary  from  the  exalted  station  which  she  was  born 
to  fill,  her  imprisonment,  her  violent  expulsion  from  the  king  - 
dom, and  her  future  banishment  or  captivity  for  life  :- — an  at- 
tempt in  which,  though  successful,  there  was  both  disgrace  to 
himself  and  detriment  to  the  honour  and  independence  of  his 
country  ;  and  from  which,  if  unsuccessful,  he  could  contemplate 
nothing  but  certain  ruin.  Struck  with  all  the  evils  of  this  dilemma; 
with  the  danger  of  provoking  beyond  forgiveness  his  own  queen, 
whose  restoration  he  still  regarded  as  no  improbable  event,  and 
with  the  imprudence  of  relying  implicitly  on  the  dubious  protec 


236 


THE  COURT  OF 


tion  of  Elizabeth,  Murray  long  hesitated  to  bring  forward  the 
only  charge  dreaded  by  the  illustrious  prisoner, — that  of  having 
conspired  with  Both  well  the  murder  of  her  husband. 

In  the  mean  time  Maitland,  a  Scottish  commissioner  secretly 
attached  to  Mary,  found  means  to  open  a  private  communication 
with  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  to  suggest  to  this  nobleman,  now 
a  widower  for  the  third  time,  the  project  of  obtaining  for  himself 
the  hand  of  Mary,  and  of  replacing  her  by  force  on  the  throne  of 
her  ancestors.  The  vanity  of  Norfolk,  artfully  worked  upon  by 
the  bishop  of  Ross,  Mary's  prime  agent,  caused  him  to  listen 
with  complacency  to  this  rash  proposal ;  and  having  once  con- 
sented to  entertain  it,  he  naturally  became  earnest  to  prevent 
Murray  from  preferring  that  heinous  accusation  which  he  had  at 
length  apprised  the  English  commissioners  that  he  was  provided 
with  ample  means  of  substantiating.  After  some  deliberation 
on  the  means  of  effecting  this  object,  he  accordingly  resolved  up- 
on the  step  of  discovering  his  views  to  the  regent  himself,  and 
endeavouring  to  obtain  his  concurrence.  Murray,  who  seems  to 
have  felt  little  confidence  in  the  stability  of  the  government  of 
which  lie  was  the  present  head,  and  who  judged  perhaps  that 
the  return  of  the  queen  as  the  wife  of  an  English  protestant  no- 
bleman would  afford  the  best  prospect  of  safety  to  himself  and 
his  party,  readily  acceded  to  the  proposal,  and  consented  still  to 
withhold  the  "  damning  proofs"  of  Mary's  guilt  which  he  held 
in  his  hand. 

But  neither  the  Scottish  associates  of  Murray  nor  the  English 
cabinet  were  disposed  to  rest  satisfied  with  this  feeble  and  tem- 
porising conduct,  Mary's  commissioners  too,  emboldened  by 
his  apparent  timidity,  of  which  the  motives  were  probably  not 
known  to  them  all,  began  to  push  their  advantage  in  a  man- 
ner which  threatened  final  defeat  to  his  party:  the  queen  of 
England  artfully  incited  him  to  proceed  ;  and  in  spite  of  his  se  - 
cret engagements  with  the  duke  and  his  own  reluctance,  he  at 
length  saw  himself  compelled  to  let  fail  the  long  suspended 
stroke  on  the  head  of  Mary.  He  applied  to  the  English  court 
for  encouragement  and  protection  in  his  perilous  enterprise ; 
and  Elizabeth,  being  at  length  suspicious  of  the  intrigue  which 
had  hitherto  baffled  all  her  expectations  from  the  conferences  at 
York,  suddenly  gave  orders  for  the  removal  of  the  queen  of  Scots 
from  Bolton-castle  and  the  superintendence  of  lord  Scope,  the 
duke's  brother-in-law,  to  the  more  secure  situation  of  Tutbury- 
castle  in  Staffordshire  and  the  vigilant  custody  of  the  earl  of 
Shrewsbury.  At  the  same  time  she  found  pretexts  for  the  trans- 
ferring the  conferences  from  York  to  Westminster,  and  added 
to  the  number  of  her  commissioners  sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  lord- 
keeper,  the  earls  of  Arundel  and  Leicester,  lord  Clinton,  and 
Cecil. 

Anxious  to  preserve  an  air  of  impartiality,  Elizabeth  declined 
giving  to  the  regent  all  the  assurances  for  his  future  security 
which  he  required ;  but  on  his  arrival  in  London  she  extended 
to  him  a  reception  equally  kind  and  respectful,  and  by  alternate 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


caresses  and  hints  of  intimidation  she  gradually  led  him  on  to 
the  production  of  the  fatal  casket  containing  the  letters  of  Mary 
to  Bothwcll,  by  which  her  participation  in  the  murder  of  her  hua 
band  Avas  clearly  proved. 

After  steps  on  the  part  of  his  sovereign  from  which  the  duke 
might  have  inferred  her  know  ledge  of  his  secret  machinations  ; 
after  dist  overies  respecting  the  conduct  of  Mary  which  impeach- 
ed her. of  guilt  so  heinous,  and  covered  her  with  infamy  so  in- 
delible ;  prudence  and  honour  alike  required  that  he  should 
abandon  for  ever  the  thought  of  linking  his  destiny  with  hers. 
But  in  the  light  and  unbalanced  mind  of  Norfolk,  the  ambition 
of  matching  with  royalty  unfortunately  preponderated  over  all 
other  considerations  :  he  speedily  began  to  weave  anew  the  tissue 
of  intrigue  which  the  removal  of  the  conferences  had  broken  off; 
,and  turning  once  more  with  fond  credulity  to  Murray,  by  whom 
his  cause  had  been  before  deserted,  he  again  put  confidence  in 
his  assurances  that  the  marriage-project  had  his  hearty  aporo- 
bation,  and  should  receive  his  effectual  support.  Melvil  informs 
us  that  this  fresh  compact  was  brought  about  by  sir  Nicholas 
Throgmorton,  "being  a  man  of  a  deep  reach  and  great  prudence 
and  discretion,  who  had  ever  travelled  for  the  union  of  this  isle." 
But  notwithstanding  his  "  deep  reach,"  he  was  certainly  im- 
posed upon  in  this  affair ;  for  the  regent,  insincere  perhaps  from 
the  beginning,  had  now  no  other  object  than  to  secure  his  pre- 
sent personal  safety  by  lavishing  promises  which  he  had  no  in- 
tention to  fulfil.  Melvil,  who  attended  him  on  his  return  to 
Scotland,  thus  explains  the  secret  of  his  conduct:  "  At  that  time 
the  duke  commanded  over  all  the  north  parts  of  England,  where 
our  mistress  was  kept,  and  so  might  have  taken  her  out  when 
he  pleased.  And  when  he  was  angry  at  the  regent,  he  had  ap- 
pointed the  earl  of  Westmorland  to  lie  in  his  way,  and  cut  off 
himself  and  so  many  of  his  company  as  were  most  bent  upon  the 
queen's  accusation.  But  after  the  last  agreement,  the  duke  sent 
and  discharged  the  said  earl  from  doing  us  any  harm  ;  yet  upon 
our  return  the  earl  came  in  our  way  with  a  great  company  of 
horse,  to  signify  to  us  that  we  were  at  his  mercy." 

It  is  difficult  to  believe,  notwithstanding  this  positive  testi- 
mony, that  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  a  man  of  mild  dispositions  and 
guided  in  the  main  by  religion  and  conscience,  would  have  ha- 
zarded, or  would  not  have  scrupled,  so  atrocious,  so  inexpiable 
an  act  of  violence,  as  that  of  cutting  off  the  regent  of  Scotland 
returning-to  his  own  country  under  sanction  of  the  public  faith 
and  the  express  protection  of  the  queen:  but  lie  may  have  in- 
dulged himself  in  vague  menaces,  which  Westmorland,  a  bigoted 
papist,  ripe  for  rebellion  against  the  government  of  Elizabeth, 
would  have  felt  little  reluctance  to  carry  into  effect,  and  thus 
the  regent's  duplicity  might  in  fact  be  prompted  and  excused  to 
himself  by  a  principle  of  self-defence. 

Whatever  degree  of  confidence  Norfolk  and  his  advisers  might 
place  in  Murray's  sincerity,  they  were  well  aware  that  other 
steps  must  be  taken,  and  other  confederates  engaged,  before  the 


238 


THE  COURT  OF 


grand  affair  of  the  marriage  could  be  put  in  a  train  to  ensure  its 
final  success.  There  was  no  immediate  prospect  of  Mary's  re- 
gaining her  liberty  by  means  of  the  queen  of  England,  or  with 
her  concurrence  ;  for  since  the  production  of  the  great  charge 
against  her,  to  which  she  had  instructed  her  commissioners  to 
decline  making  any  answer,  Elizabeth  had  regarded  her  as  one 
who  had  suffered  judgment  to  go  against  her  by  default,  and  be- 
gan to  treat  her  accordingly.  Her  confinement  was  rendered 
more  rigorous,  and  henceforth  the  still  pending  negotiations  re- 
specting her  return  to  her  own  country  were  carried  on  with  a 
slackness  which  evidently  proceeded  from  the  dread  of  Mary, 
and  the  reluctance  of  Elizabeth,  to  bring  to  a  decided  determi- 
nation a  business  which  could  not  now  be  ended  either  with  cre- 
dit or  advantage  to  the  deposed  queen. 

Elizabeth  had  dismissed  the  regent  to  his  government  without 
open  approbation  of  his  conduct  as  without  censure  ;  but  he  had 
received  from  her  in  private  an  important  supply  of  money,  and 
such  other  effectual  aids  as  not  only  served  to  establish  the  pre- 
sent preponderance  of  his  authority,  but  would  enable  him,  it 
was  thought,  successfully  to  withstand  all  future  attempts  for 
the  restoration  of  Mary.  Evidently  then  it  was  only  by  the 
raising  of  a  formidable  party  in  the  English  court  that  any  thing 
could  be  effected  in  behalf  of  the  royal  captive  ;  but  her  agents 
and  those  of  the  duke  assured  themselves  that  ample  means  were 
in  their  hands  for  setting  this  machine  in  action. 

Elizabeth,  it  was  now  thought,  would  not  marry  :  the  queen  of 
Scots  was  generally  admitted  to  be  her  legal  heir ;  and  it  ap- 
peared highly  important  to  the  welfare  of  England  that  she  should 
not  transfer  her  claims,  with  her  hand,  to  any  of  the  more  pow- 
erful princes  of  Europe ;  consequently  the  duke  entertained 
little  doubt  of  uniting  in  favour  of  his  suit  the  suffrages  of  all 
those  leading  characters  in  the  English  court  who  had  formerly 
conveyed  to  Mary  assurances  of  their  attachment  to  her  title  and 
interests.  His  own  influence  amongst  the  nobility  was  very 
considerable,  and  he  readily  obtained  the  concurrence  of  the 
earl  of  Pembroke,  the  earl  of  Arundel  (his  first  wife's  father,) 
and  lord  Lumley  (a  catholic  peer  closely  connected  with  the 
house  of  Howard.)  The  design  was  nowr  imparted  to  Leicester, 
who  entered  into  it  with  an  ostentation  of  affectionate  zeal 
which  ought  perliaps  to  have  alarmed  the  too  credulous  duke. 
As  if  impatient  to  give  an  undeniable  pledge  of  his  sincerity,  he 
undertook  to  draw  up  with  his  own  hand  a  letter  to  '.the  queen 
af  Scots,  warmly  recommending  the  duke  to  her  matrimonial 
choice,  which  immediately  received  the  signatures  of  the  three 
nobles  above  mentioned  and  the  rest  of  the  confederates.  By 
these  subscribers  it  was  distinctly  stipulated,  that  the  union 
should  not  take  place  without  the  knowledge  and  approbation  of 
the  queen  of  England,  and  that  the  reformed  religion  should  be 
maintained  in  both  the  British  kingdoms  ; — conditions  by  which 
they  at  first  perhaps  believed  that  they  had  provided  sufficiently 
for  the  interests  of  Elizabeth  and  of  protestantism :  it  was  how 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


ever  immediately  obvious  that  the  duke  and  his  agents  had  the 
design  of  concealing  carefully  all  their  measures  from  their 
sovereign,  till  the  party  should  have  gained  such  strength  thai 
it  would  no  longer  be  safe  for  her  to  refuse  a  consent  which  [i 
was  well  known  that  she  would  always  be  unwilling  to  grant. 

But  when,  on  encouragement  being  given  by  Mary  to  the  hopes 
of  her  suitor,  the  kings  of  France  and  Spain,  and  even  the  Pope 
himself,  were  made  privy  to  the  scheme  and  pledged  to  give  it 
their  assistance,  all  its  English,  and  especially  all  its  protestant 
supporters,  ought  to  have  been  aware  that  their  undertaking  was 
assuming  the  form  of  a  conspiracy  with  the  enemies  of  their 
queen  and  country  against  her  government  and  personal  safety ; 
against  the  public  peace,  and  the  religion  by  law  established ; 
and  nothing  can  excuse  the  blindness,  or  palliate  the  guilt,  of 
their  perseverance  in  a  course  so  perilous  and  so  crooked. 

Private  interests  were  doubtless  at  the  bottom  with  most  or 
all  of  the  participators  in  this  aifair  who  were  not  papists ;  and 
those, — they  were  not  a  few, — who  envied  or  who  feared  the  in- 
fluence and  authority  of  Cecil,  eagerly  seized  the  occasion  to 
array  against  him  a  body  of  hostility  by  which  they  trusted  to 
work  his  final  and  irretrievable  ruin. 

It  seems  to  have  been  by  an  ambitious  rivalry  with  the  secre- 
tary, that  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton,  whose  early  life  had  ex- 
hibited so  bold  a  spirit  of  resistance  to  tyranny  and  popery  when 
triumphant  and  enthroned,  had  been  carried  into  a  faction  which 
all  his  principles  ought  to  have  rendered  odious  to  him.  In  his 
intercourses  with  the  queen  of  Scots  as  ambassador  from  Eliza- 
beth, he  had  already  shown  himself  her  zealous  partisan.  In 
advising  her  to  sign  for  her  safety  the  deed  of  abdication  ten- 
dered to  her  at  Loch  Leven,  he  had  basely  suggested  that  the 
compulsion  under  which  she  acted  would  excuse  her  from  re- 
garding it  as  binding:  to  the  English  crown  he  also  regarded 
her  future  title  as  incontrovertible.  He  now  represented  to  his 
party,  that  Cecil  was  secretly  inclined  to  the  house  of  Suffolk : 
and  that  no  measure  favourable  to  the  reputation  or  authority 
of  the  queen  of  Scots  could  be  carried  whilst  he  enjoyed  the 
confidence  of  his  mistress.  By  these  suggestions,  the  duke,  un- 
fortunately for  himself,  was  led  to  sanction  an  attempt  against 
the  power  and  reputation  of  this  great  minister. 
;  Leicester,  who  had  long  hated  his  virtues ;  the  old  corrupt 
statesman  Winchester,  Pembroke,  and  Arundel ;  and  the  discon- 
tented catholic  peers  Northumberland  and  Westmorland,  eagerly 
joined  in  the  plot.  It  was  agreed  to  attack  the  secretary  in  the 
privy-council  on  the  ground  of  his  having  advised  the  detention 
of  the  money  going  into  the  Low  Countries  for  the  service  of  the 
king  of  Spain,  and  thus  exposing  the  nation  to  the  danger  of  a 
war  with  this  potentate;  and  Throgmorton  is  said  to  have  ad 
vised  that,  whatever  he  answered,  they  should  find  some  pretext 
for  sending  him  to  the  Tower ;  after  which,  he  said,  it  would  be 
easy  to  compass  his  overthrow. 
But  the  penetration  of  Elizabeth  enabled  her  to  appreciate 


THE  COURT  OF 


justly,  with  a  single  exception,  the  principles,  characters,  and 
motives  of  all  her  servants  ;  and  she  knew  that,  while  his  ene- 
mies were  exclusively  attached  to  their  own  interests,  Cecil  was 
attached  also  to  the  interests  of  his  prince,  his  country,  and  his 
religion  ;  that  while  others, — with  that,  far-sighted  selfishness 
which  involves  men  in  so  many  intrigues,  usually  rendered  fruit- 
less or  needless  by  the  after-course  of  events, — were  bent  on  se- 
curing to  themselves  the  good  graces  of  her  successor,  he  was 
content  to  depend  on  her  alone;  that  while  others  were  the  cour- 
tiers, the  flatterers,  or  the  ministers,  of  the  queen,  he,  and  per- 
haps he  only,  was  the  friend  of  Elizabeth.  All  the  rest  she  knew 
that  she  could  replace  at  a  moment; — him  never.  Secret .infor- 
mation was  carried  to  her  of  all  that  her  council  were  contriving, 
and  had  almost  executed,  against  the  secretary:  full  of  indigna- 
tion she  hurried  to  their  meeting,  where  she  was  not  expected,  and 
by  her  peremptory  mandate  put  an  instant  stop  to  their  proceed- 
ings ;  making  Leicester  himself  sensible,  by  a  warmth  which  did 
her  honour,  that  the  man  who  held  the  first  place  in  her  esteem 
was  by  no  one  to  be  injured  with  impunity. 

The  earl  of  Sussex,  the  true  friend  of  Norfolk,  and  never  his 
abettor  in  designs  of  which  his  sober  judgment  could  discern  all 
the  criminality  and  all  the  rashness,  was  grieved  to  the  soul  that 
the  artifices  of  his  followers  should  have  set  him  at  variance  with 
Cecil.  He  was  doubtless  aware  of  the  advantage  which  their 
disagreement  M  ould  minister  against  them  both  to  the  malignant 
Leicester,  his  and  their  common  enemy ;  and  trembling  for  the 
safety  of  the  duke  and  the  welfare  of  both,  he  addressed  to  the 
secretary,  from  the  north,  where  he  was  then  occupied  in  the 
queen's  service,  a  letter  on  the  subject,  eloquent  by  its  uncom- 
mon earnestness. 

He  tells  him  that  he  knows  not  the  occasion  of  the  coldness 
between  him  and  the  duke,  of  which  he  had  acknowledged  the 
existence;  but  that  he  cannot  believe  other,  esteeming  both  par- 
ties as  he  does,  than  that  it  must  have  had  its  origin  in  misre- 
presentation and  the  ill  offices  of  their  enemies  ;  and  he  implores 
him,  as  the  general  remedy  of  all  such  differences,  to  resort  to  a 
full  and  fair  explanation  with  the  duke  himself,  in  whom  he  will 
lind  "  honour,  truth,  wisdom  and  plainness." 

These  excellent  exhortations  were  not  without  effect :  it  is 
probable  that  the  incautious  duke  had  either  been  led  inadvert- 
ently or  dragged  unwillingly,  by  his  faction,  into  the  plot  against 
the  secretary,  whose  ruin  he  was  not  likely  to  have  sought  from 
any  personal  motive  of  enmity  ;  and  accordingly  a  few  weeks 
after  (June  1569)  we  find  Sussex  congratulating  Cecil,  in  a  se- 
cond letter,  on  a  reconciliation  between  them  which  he  trusts 
will  prove  entire  and  permanent.* 

Hitherto  the  queen  had  preserved  so  profound  a  silence  re- 
specting the  intrigues  of  the  duke,  that  he  flattered  himself  she 
was  without  a  suspicion  of  their  existence;  but  this  illusion  was 


*  "Illustrations,"  &c.by  Lodge,  vol.  ii. 


Q1TEKN  ELIZABETH. 


241 


soon  to  vanish.  In  August  15G9,  the  queen  being  at  Farnham 
ill  her  progress,  and  the  duke  in  attendance  on  her,  she  took  him 
to  dine  with  her,  and  in  the  course  of  conversation  found  occasion, 
'*  without  any  show  of  displeasure,"  but  with  sufficient  significance 
of  manner,  to  give  him  tlie  advice,  "  to  be  very  careful  on  what 
pillow  he  rested  his  head."  Afterwards  she  cautioned  him  in 
plain  terms  against  entering  into  any  marriage  treaty  with  the 
queen  of  Scots.  The  duke,  in  his  hi  st  surprise,  made  no  scruple 
to  promise  on  his  allegiance  that  he  would  entertain  no  thoughts 
of  her;  he  even  affected  to  speak  of  such  a  connexion  with  dis- 
dain, declaring  that  he  esteemed  his  lands  in  England  worth 
neaiTy  as  much  as  the  whole  kingdom  of  Scotland,  wasted  as  it 
was  by  wars  and  tumults,  and  that  in  his  tennis-court  at  Nor- 
wich he  reckoned  himself  equal  to  many  a  prince. — These  de- 
monstrations were  all  insincere  ;  the  duke  remained  steady  to 
his  purpose,  and  his  correspondence  with  the  queen  of  Scots  was 
not  for  a  single  day  intermitted  in  submission  to  his  sovereign. 
But  he  felt  that  it  was  now  time  to  take  off  the  mask  ;  and  fully 
confiding  in  the  strength  of  his  party,  he  requested  the  earl  of 
Leicester  immediately  to  open  the  marriage  proposal  to  her  ma- 
jesty, and  solicit  her  consent.  This  the  favourite  promised,  but 
for  his  own  ends  continued  to  defer  the  business  from  day  to  day. 

Cecil,  who  had  recently  been  taken  into  the  consultations  of 
the  duke,  urged  upon  him  with  great  force  the  expediency  of  be- 
ing himself  the  first  to  name  his  wishes  to  the  queen  ;  but  Nor- 
folk, either  from  timidity,  or,  more  probably,  from  an  ill-founded 
reliance  on  Leicester's  sincerity,  and  a  distrust,  equally  mis- 
placed, of  that  of  Cecil,  whom  he  was  conscious  of  having  ill 
treated,  neglected  to  avail  himself  of  this  wise  and  friendly  coun- 
sel, by  which  he  might  yet  have  been  preserved.  Leicester, 
who  watched  all  his  motions,  was  at  length  satisfied  that  his 
purpose  was  effected, — the  victim  was  inveigled  beyond  the  pow- 
er of  retreat  or  escape,  and  it  was  time  for  the  decoy-bird  to  slip 
out  of  the  snare. 

He  summoned  to  his  aid  a  fit  of  sickness,  the  never  failing 
resource  of  the  courtiers  of  Elizabeth  in  case  of  need.  His  pi- 
tying mistress,  as  he  had  doubtless  anticipated,  hastened  to  pay 
him  a  charitable  visit  at  his  own  house,  and  he  then  suffered  her 
to  discover  that  his  malady  was  occasioned  by  some  momentous 
secret  which  weighed  upon  his  spirits ;  and  after  due  osten- 
tation of  penitence  and  concern,  at  length  revealed  to  her  the 
whole  of  the  negotiations  for  the  marriage  of  the  duke  with  the 
queen  of  Scots,  including  the  part  which  he  had  himself  taken 
in  that  business. 

Elizabeth,  who  seems  by  no  means  to  have  suspected  that 
matters  had  gone  so  far,  or  that  so  many  of  her  nobles  were  im- 
plicated in  this  transaction,  was  moved  with  indignation,  and 
commanded  the  immediate  attendance  of  the  duke,  who  consci- 
ous of  his  delinquency,  and  disquieted  by  the  change  which  he 
thought  he  had  observed  in  the  countenance  of  her  majesty  and 
the  carriage  towards  him  of  his  brother  peers,  had  some  time 

H  h 


THE  COURT  OF 


before  quitted  the  court,  and  retired  first  to  his  house  in  London, 
and  afterwards  to  his  seat  of  Kenninghall  in  Norfolk.  The  duke 
delayed  to  appear,  not  daring  to  trust  himself  in  the  hands  of  his 
offended  sovereign ;  and  after  a  short  delay,  procured  for  him  by 
the  compassion  of  Cecil,  who  persisted  in  assuring  the  queen 
that  he  would  doubtless  come  shortly  of  his  own  accord,  a  mes- 
senger was  sent  to  bring  him  up  to  London.  This  messenger, 
on  his  arrival,  found  the  duke  apparently,  and  perhaps  really, 
labouring  under  a  violent  ague  ;  and  he  suffered  himself  to  be 
prevailed  upon  to  accept  his  solemn  promise  of  appearing  at  court 
as  soon  as  he  should  be  able  to  travel,  and  to  return  withouthim. 

Meanwhile  the  queen,  now  bent  upon  sifting  this  matter  to 
the  bottom,  had  written  to  require  the  Scottish  regent  to  inform 
her  of  the  share  which  he  had  taken  in  the  intrigue,  and  what 
ever  else  he  knew  respecting  it.  Murray  had  become  fully 
aware  how  much  more  important  it  was  to  his  interests  to  pre- 
serve the  favour  and  friendship  of  Elizabeth  than  to  aim  at  keep- 
ing any  measures  with  Mary,  by  whom  he  was  now  hated  with 
extreme  bitterness  ;  and  learning  that  the  confidence  of  the  duke 
had  already  been  betrayed  by  the  earl  of  Leicester,  he  made  no 
scruple  of  acquainting  her  witli  all  the  particulars  in  which  he 
Was  immediately  concerned. 

It  thus  became  known  to  Elizabeth,  that  as  early  as  the  con- 
ferences at  York,  the  regent  had  been  compelled,  by  threats  of 
personal  violence  on  his  return  to  Scotland,  to  close  with  the 
proposals  of  the  duke  relative  to  his  marriage ; — that  it  was  with 
a  view  to  this  union  that  Mary  had  solicited  from  the  states  of 
Scotland  a  sentence  of  divorce  from  Bothwell,  which  Murray,  by 
the  exertion  of  his  influence  had  induced  them  to  refuse,  and 
thus  delayed  the  completion  of  the  contract :  but  it  appeared 
from  other  evidence,  that  written  promises  of  marriage  had  actu- 
ally been  exchanged  between  the  duke  and  Mary,  and  commit- 
ted to  the  safe  keeping  of  the  French  ambassador.  It  was  also 
found  to  be  a  part  of  the  scheme,  to  betrothe  the  infant  king  of 
Scots  to  a  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk. 

The  anger  of  Elizabeth  disdained  to  be  longer  trifled  with ; 
and  she  dispatched  a  messenger  with  peremptory  orders  to  bring 
up  the  duke,  "  his  ague  notwithstanding,"  who  found  him  already 
preparing  to  set  out  on  his  journey.  Cecil,  in  one  of  his  letters 
to  sir  Henry  Norris,  dated  October  1569,  relates  these  circum- 
stances at  length,  and  expresses  his  satisfaction  in  the  last,  both 
for  the  sake  of  the  state  and  of  the  duke  himself,  whom,  of  all 
subjects,  he  declares  he  most  loved  and  honoured.  He  then  pro- 
ceeds thus  :  "  The  queen's  majesty  hath  willed  the  earl  of  Arun- 
del and  my  lord  of  Pembroke  to  keep  their  lodgings  here,  for  that 
they  were  privy  of  this  marriage  intended,  and  did  not  reveal  it 
to  her  majesty;  but  I  think  none  of  them  did  so  with  any  evil 
meaning,  and  of  my  lord  of  Pembroke's  intent  herein  I  can  wit- 
ness, that  he  meant  nothing  but  well  to  the  queen's  majesty ; 
my  lord  LumJey  is  also  restrained :  the  queen's  majesty  hath 
also  been  grievously  offended  with  my  lord  of  Leicester:  but 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


243 


considering  that  he  hath  revealed  all  that  he  saith  lie  knoweth 
of  himself,  her  majesty  spareth  her  displeasure  the  more  towards 
him.  Some  disquiets  must  arise,  but  I  trust  not  hurtful  ;  For  her 
majesty  saith  she  will  know  the  truth,  so  as  every  one  shall  see 

his  own  fault,  and  so  stay  My  lord  of  Huntingdon  is  joined 

with  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  for  the  Scots  queen's  safety.  Whilst 
this  matter  was  in  passing,  you  must  not  think  but  the  queen  of 
Scots  was  nearer  looked  to  than  before." 

The  duke  on  his  arrival  was  committed  to  the  Tower ;  but 
neither  against  him  nor  any  of  his  adherents  did  the  queen  think 
proper  to  proceed  by  course  of  law,  and  they  were  all  liberated 
after  a  restraint  of  longer  or  shorter  duration. 

It  is  proper  to  mention,  that  the  adherents  of  Mary  in  her  own 
time,  and  various  writers  since,  have  conspired  to  cast  severe 
reflections  upon  Elizabeth  for  committing  her  to  the  joint  custo- 
dy of  the  earl  of  Huntingdon,  because  this  nobleman,  being  de- 
scended by  his  mother,  a  daughter  of  Henry  Pole  lord  Monta- 
cute,  from  the  house  of  Clarence,  was  supposed  to  put  his  right 
of  succession  to  the  crown  in  competition  with  hers,  and  there- 
fore to  entertain  against  her  peculiar  animosity.  But  on  the  part 
of  Elizabeth  it  may  be  observed — First,  that  there  is  not  the 
slightest  ground  to  suspect  that  this  nobleman,  who  was  child- 
less, entertained  the  most  distant  idea  of  reviving  the  obsolete 
claims  of  his  family ;  and  certainly  if  Elizabeth  had  suspected 
him  of  it,  he  would  never  have  held  so  high  a  place  in  her  confi- 
dence. Secondly,  nothing  less  than  the  death  of  Mary  would 
have  served  any  designs  that  he  might  have  formed  ;  and  by  join- 
ing him  in  commission  with  others  for  her  safe  keeping,  Elizabeth 
will  scarcely  be  said  to  have  put  it  in  his  power  to  make  way 
with  her.  Thirdly,  the  very  writers  who  complain  of  the  vigi- 
lance and  strictness  with  which  the  queen  of  Scots  was  now 
guarded,  all  acknowledge  that  nothing  less  could  have  baffled 
the  plans  of  escape  which  the  zeal  of  her  partisans  was  continu- 
ally setting  on  foot.  Amongst  the  warmest  of  these  partisans 
was  Leonard  Dacre,  a  gentleman  whose  personal  qualities, 
whose  errors,  injuries,  and  misfortunes,  all  conspire  to  render  him 
an  object  of  attention,  illustrative  as  they  also  are  of  the  prac- 
tices and  sentiments  of  his  age. 

Leonard  was  the  second  son  of  William  lord  Dacre  of  Gib- 
land,  descended  from  the  ancient  barons  Vaux,  who  had  held 
lordships  in  Cumberland  from  the  days  of  the  Conqueror. 

In  1568,  on  the  death  without  issue  of  his  nephew,  a  minor  in 
wardship  to  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  Leonard,  as  heir  male,  laid 
claim  to  the  title  and  family  estates,  but  the  three  sisters  of  the 
last  lord  disputed  with  him  this  valuable  succession ;  and  being 
supported  by  the  interest  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk  their  stepfather, 
to  whose  three  sons  they  were  married,  they  found  means  to  de- 
feat the  claims  of  their  uncle,  though  indisputably  good  in  law  ; 
— one  instance  in  a  thousand  of  the  scandalous  partiality  to- 
wards the  rich  and  powerful  exhibited  in  the  legal  decisions  of 
that  age. 


244 


THE  COURT  OF 


Stung  with  resentment  against  the  government  and  the  queen 
herself,  by  whom  justice  had  been  denied  him,  Leonard  Dacre 
threw  himself,  with  all  the  impetuosity  of  his  character,  into  the 
measures  of  the  malcontents  and  the  interests  of  the  queen  of 
Scots,  and  he  laid  a  daring  plan  for  her  deliverance  from  Tut- 
bury  castle.  This  plan  the  duke,  on  its  being  communicated  to 
him,  had  vehemently  opposed,  partly  from  his4repugnance  to  mea- 
sures of  violence,  partly  from  the  apprehension  that  Mary,  when 
at  liberty,  might  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  foreign  and  catholic 
party,  and  desert  her  engagements  with  him  for  a  marriage  with 
the  king  of  Spain.  Dacre,  however,  was  not  to  be  diverted  from 
his  design,  especially  by  the  man  with  whom  he  was  at  open  en- 
mity, and  he  assembled  a  troop  of  horse  for  its  execution ;  but 
suspicions  had  probably  been  excited,  and  the  sudden  removal  of 
the  prisoner  to  Wingfield  frustrated  all  his  measures. 

This  was  not  the  only  attempt  of  that  turbulent  and  danger- 
ous faction  of  which  the  inconsiderate  ambition  of  the  duke  had 
rendered  him  nominally  the  head,  but  really  the  tool  and  victim, 
which  he  had  now  the  grief  to  find  himself  utterly  unable  to  guide 
or  restrain. 

The  earls  of  Northumberland  and  Westmorland,  heads  of 
the  ancient  and  warlike  families  of  Percy  and  Nevil,  were  the 
first  to  break  that  internal  tranquillity  which  the  kingdom  had 
hitherto  enjoyed,  without  the  slightest  interruption,  under  the 
wise  and  vigorous  rule  of  Elizabeth.  The  remoteness  of  these 
noblemen  from  the  court  and  capital,  with  the  poverty  and  con- 
sequent simplicity,  almost  barbarism,  of  the  vassals  over  whom 
they  bore  sway,  and  whose  homage  they  received  like  native  and 
independent  princes,  appears  to  have  nourished  in  their  minds 
ideas  of  their  own  importance  better  suited  to  the  period  of  the 
wars  of  the  Roses  than  to  the  happier  age  of  peace  and  order 
which  had  succeeded. 

The  offended  pride  of  the  earl  of  Westmorland,  a  man  desti- 
tute in  fact  of  every  kind  of  talent,  seems,  on  some  occasion,  to 
have  conducted  him  to  the  discovery,  that  at  the  court  of  Eliza- 
beth the  representative  of  the  king-making  Warwick  was  a  per- 
son of  very  slender  consideration.  The  failure  of  the  grand  at- 
tack upon  the  secretary,  in  which  he  had  taken  part,  confirmed 
this  mortifying  impression  ;  and  the  committal  of  his  brother-in- 
law,  the  great  and  powerful  duke  of  Norfolk  himself,  must  subse- 
quently have  carried  home  to  the  bottom  of  his  heart  unwilling 
conviction  that  the  preponderance  of  the  ancient  aristocracy  of 
the  country  was  subverted,  and  its  proudest  chieftains  fast  sink- 
ing to  the  common  level  of  subjects.  His  attachment  to  the  reli- 
gion, with  the  other  practices  and  prejudices  of  former  ages,  gave 
additional  exasperation  to  his  discontent  against  the  establish- 
ed order  of  things  :  the  incessant  invectives  of  Romish  priests 
against  a  princess  whom  the  pope  was  on  the  point  of  anathema- 
tising, represented  the  cause  of  her  enemies  as  that  of  Heaven 
itself;  and  the  spirit  of  the  earl  was  roused  at  length  to  seek 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 


245 


full  vengeance  for  all  the  injuries  sustained  by  his  pride,  his  in- 
terests, or  his  principles. 

Every  motive  of  disaffection  which  wrought  upon  the  mind  of 
Westmoreland,  affected  equally  the  earl  of  Northumberland  ; 
and  to  the  cause  of  popery  the  latter  was  still  further  pledged  by 
the  example  and  fate  of  his  father,  that  sir  Thomas  Percy 
who  had  perished  on  the*  scaffold  for  his  share  in  Aske's  rebel- 
lion. The  attainder  of  sir  Thomas  had  debarred  his  son  from 
succeeding  to  the  titles  and  estates  of  the  last  unhappy  earl,  his 
uncle,  and  he  had  suffered  the  mortification  of  seeing  them  go  to 
raise  the  fortunes  of  the  house  of  Dudley  ;  but  on  the  accession 
of  Mary,  by  whom  his  father  was  regarded  as  a  martyr,  he  had 
been  restored  to  all  the  honours  of  his  birth,  and  treated  with  a 
degree,  of  favour  which  could  not  but  strengthen  his  predilection 
for  the  faith  of  which  she  was  the  patroness.  It  appears,  how- 
ever, that  the  attachment  of  the  earl  to  the  cause  of  popery  had 
not,  on  all  occasions,  been  proof  against  immediate  personal  in- 
terest. Soon  after  the  marriage  of  the  queen  of  Scots  with  D  irn- 
ley,  that  rash  and  ill-judging  pair  esteeming  their  authority  in  the 
country  sufficiently  established  to  enable  them  to  venture  on  an 
attempt  for  the  restoration  of  the  old  religion,  the  pope,  in  fur- 
therance of  their  pious  designs,  had  remitted  the  sum  of  eight 
thousand  crowns.  "  But  the  ship  wherein  the  said  gold  was," 
says  James  Melvil  in  his  Memoirs,  "  did  shipwrack  upon  the 
coast  of  England,  within  the  earl  of  Northumberland's  bounds, 
who  alleged  the  whole  to  appertain  to  him  by  just  law,  which  he 
caused  his  advocate  to  read  unto  me,  when  I  was  directed  to  him 
for  the  demanding  restitution  of  the  said  sum,  in  the  old  Norman 
language,  which  neither  he  nor  I  understood  well,  it  was  so  cor- 
rupt. But  all  my  entreaties  were  ineffectual,  he  altogether  re- 
fusing to  give  any  part  thereof  to  the  queen,  albeit  he  was  him- 
self a  catholic,  and  professed  secretly  to  be  her  friend."  And 
through  this  disappointment  Mary  was  compelled  to  give  up  her 
design. 

An  additional  trait  of  the  earl's  character  is  furnished  by  the 
same  author,  in  transcribing  the  instructions  which  he  carried 
home  from  his  brother  sir  Robert  Melvil,  then  ambassador  to 
England,  on  his  return  from  that  country,  after  announcing  the 
birth  of  the  prince  of  Scotland.  "  Item,  that  her  majesty  cast  not 
off  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  albeit  as  a  fearful  and  facile  man 
he  delivered  her  letter  to  the  queen  of  England  ;  neither  appear 
to  find  fault  with  sir  Henry  Percy  as  yet  for  his  dealing  with  Mr. 
Ruxbie,"  (an  English  spy  in  Scotland,)  "  which  he  doth  to  gain 
favour  at  court,  being  upon  a  contrary  faction  to  his  brother,  the 
earl." 

The  machinations  of  the  two  earls,  however  cautiously  carried 
on,  did  not  entirely  escape  the  penetration  of  the  earl  of  Sussex, 
lord  president  of  the  north,  who  sent  for  them  both  and  subject- 
ed them  to  some  kind  of  examination  ;  but  no  sufficient  cause  for 
their  detention  then  appearing,  he  dismissed  them,  hoping  proba- 
bly that  the  warning  would  prove  efficacious  in  securing  their 


246 


THE  COURT  OF 


peaceable  behaviour.  In  this  idea,  however,  lie  was  deceived  *, 
on  their  return  they  instantly  resumed  their  mischievous  designs; 
and  they  were  actually  preparing  for  an  insurrection,  which  was 
to  be  supported  by  troops  from  Flanders  promised  by  the  duke 
of  Alva,  when  a  summons  from  the  queen  for  their  immediate  at- 
tendance at  court  disconcerted  all  their  measures. 

To  comply  with  the  command  seemed  madness  in  men  who 
were  conscious  that  their  proceedings  had  already  amounted  to 
high  treason  ; — but  to  refuse  obedience,  and  thus  set  at  defiance 
a  power  to  which  they  were  as  yet  unprepared  to  oppcfse  any  ef- 
fectual resistance,  seemed  equally  desperate.  They  hesitated ; 
and  it  is  said  that  the  irresolution  of  Northumberland  was  only 
ended  by  the  stratagem  of  some  of  his  dependents,  who  waked 
him  one  night  with  a  false  alarm  that  his  enemies  were  upon  him, 
and  thus  hurried  him  into  the  irretrievable  step  of  quitting  his 
home  and  joining  Westmorland,  on  which  the  country  flocked 
in  for  their  defence,  and  they  found  themselves  compelled  to 
raise  their  standard. 

The  enterprise  immediately  assumed  the  aspect  of  a  Holy 
War,  or  crusade  against  heresy :  on  the  banners  of  the  insur- 
gents were  displayed  the  cross,  the  five  wounds  of  Christ,  and 
the  cup  of  the  euoharist :  mass  was  regularly  performed  in  their 
camp  ;  and,  on  reaching  Durham,  they  carried  off  from  the  ca- 
thedral and  committed  to  the  flames  the  bible  and  the  English 
service  books. 

The  want  of  money  to  purchase  provisions  compelled  the  earls 
to  relinquish  their  first  idea  of  marching  to  London ;  they  took 
however  a  neighbouring  castle,  and  remained  masters  ot  the 
country  as  long  as  no  army  appeared  to  oppose  them ;  but  on  the 
approach  of  the  earl  of  Sussex  and  lord  Hunsdon  from  York  with 
a  large  body  of  troops,  they  gradually  retreated  to  the  Scotch 
borders,  and  there  disbanded  their  men  without  a  blow.  The 
earl  of  Westmoreland  finally  made  his  escape  to  Flanders, 
where  he  dragged  out  a  tedious  existence  in  poverty  and  ob- 
scurity, barely  supplied  with  the  necessaries  of  life  by  a  slender 
pension  from  the  king  of  Spain.  Northumberland,  being  betray- 
ed for  a  reward  by  a  Scottish  borderer  to  whom,  as  to  a  friend, 
he  had  fled  for  refuge,  was  at  length  delivered  up  by  the  regent 
Morton  to  the  English  government,  and  was  beheaded  at  York. 

Posterity  is  not  called  upon  to  respect  the  memory  of  these 
rebellious  earls  as  martyrs  even  to  a  mistaken  zeal  for  the  good 
of  their  country,  or  to  any  other  generous  principle  of  action. 
The  objects  of  their  enterprise,  as  assigned  by  themselves,  were 
the  restoration  of  the  old  religion,  the  removal  of  evil  counsel- 
lors, and  the  liberation  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and  other  impri- 
soned nobles.  But  even  their  attachment  to  popery  appears  to 
have  been  entirely  subservient  to  their  views  of  personal  interest ; 
and  so  little  was  the  duke  inclined  to  blend  his  cause  with 
theirs,  that  he  exerted  himself  in  every  mode  that  his  situation 
would  permit  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  government  for  their 
overthrow;  and  it  was  in  consideration  of  the  loyal  spirit  ma- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


U7 


liifested  by  him  on  occasion  of  this  rebellion,  and  of  a  subsequent 
rising  in  Norfolk,  that  he  soon  after  obtained  his  liberty  on  a 
solemn  promise  to  renounce  all  connexion  with  the  queen  of 
Scots. 

In  the  northern  counties,  however,  the  cause  and  the  persons 
of  the  two  earls,  who  had  well  maintained  the  hospitable  fame 
of  their  great  ancestors,  were  alike  the  objects  of  popular  attach- 
ment: the  miserable  destiny  of  the  outlawed  and  ruined  West- 
morland, and  the  untimely  end  of  Northumberland  through  the 
perfidy  of  the  false  friend  in  whom  he  had  put  his  trust,  were 
long  remembered  with  pity  and  indignation,  and  many  a  minstrel 
"  tuned  his  rude  harp  of  border  frame"  to  the  fall  of  the  Percy 
or  the  wanderings  of  the  Nevil.  There  was  also  an  ancient  gen- 
tleman named  Norton,  of  Norton  in  Yorkshire,  who  bore  the 
banner  of  the  cross  and  the  five  wounds  before  the  rebel  army, 
whose  tragic  fall,  with  that  of  his  eight  sons,  has  received  such 
commemoration  and  embellishment  as  the  pathetic  strains  of  a 
nameless  but  probably  contemporary  bard  could  bestow.  The 
excellent  ballad  entitled  "  The  Rising  in  the  North"*  impres- 
sively describes  the  mission  of  Percy's  "  little  foot  page"  to 
Norton,  to  pray  that  he  will  "ride  in  his  company;"  the  council 
held  by  Richard  Norton  with  his  nine  sons,  when 

"  Eight  of  them  did  answer  make, 

Eight  of  them  spake  hastily, 

O  father  !  till  the  day  we  die 

We'll  stand  by  that  good  earl  and  thee ;" 

while  Francis,  the  eldest,  seeks  to  dissuade  his  father  from  re- 
bellion, but  finding  him  resolved,  offers  to  accompany  him  "  un- 
armed and  naked."  Their  standard  is  then  mentioned  ;  and  after 
recording  the  flight  of  the  two  earls,  the  minstrel  adds, 

"  Thee  Norton  with  thine  eight  good  sons 
They  doomed  to  die,  alas  for  ruth ! 
Thy  reverend  locks  thee  could  not  save, 
Nor  them  their  fair  and  blooming  youth !" 

But  how  slender  is  the  authority  of  a  poet  in  matters  of  history! 
It  is  quite  certain  that  Richard  Norton  did  not  perisli  by  the 
hands  of  the  executioner,  and  it  is  uncertain  whether  any  one  of 
his  sons  did.  It  is  true  that  the  old  man  with  three  more  of  the 
family  was  attainted,  that  his  great  estates  were  confiscated, 
and  that  he  ended  his  days  a  miserable  exile  in  Flanders.  We. 
also  know  that  two  gentlemen  of  the  name  of  Norton  were  hang 
ed  at  London :  but  some  authorities  make  them  brothers  of  the, 
head  of  the  family ;  and  two  of  the  sons  of  Richard  Norton,  Fran 
cis,  and  Edmund  ancestor  of  the  present  lord  Grantley,  certainly 
lived  and  died  in  peace  on  their  estates  in  Yorkshire. 


*  See  Percy's"  Reli^ues,"  vi-l  it 


248 


THE  COURT  OF 


It  is  little  to  the  honour  of  Elizabeth's  clemency,  that  a  rebel- 
lion suppressed  almost  without  bloodshed  should  have  been 
judged  bj  her  to  justify  and  require  the  unmitigated  exercise  of 
martial  law  over  the  whole  of  the  disaffected  country.  Sir  John 
Bowes,  marshal  of  the  army,  made  it  his  boast,  that  in  a  tract 
sixty  miles  in  length  and  forty  in  breadth,  there  was  scarcely  a  • 
town  or  village  where  he  had  not  put  some  to  death ;  and  at 
Durham  the  earl  of  Sussex  caused  sixty-three  constables  to  be 
hanged  at  once ;  a  severity  of  which  it  should  appear  that  he 
was  the  unwilling  instrument ;  for  in  a  letter  written  soon  after 
to  Cecil  he  complains,  that  during  part  of  the  time  of  his  com- 
mand in  the  north  he  had  nothing  left  to  him  "but  to  direct 
hanging  matters."  But  the  situation  of  this  nobleman  at  the 
time  was  such  as  would  by  no  means  permit  him  at  his  own 
peril  to  suspend  or  evade  the  execution  of  such  orders  as  he  re- 
ceived from  court.  Egremont  Ratcliffe  his  half-brother  was  one 
of  about  forty  noblemen  and  gentlemen  attainted  for  their  con- 
cern in  this  rebellion ;  he  had  in  the  earl  of  Leicester  an  enemy 
equally  vindictive  and  powerful ;  and  some  secret  informations 
had  infused  into  the  mind  of  the  queen  a  suspicion  that  there 
had  been  some  wilful  slackness  in  his  proceedings  against  the 
insurgents.  There  was  however  at  the  bottom  of  Elizabeth's 
heart  a  conviction  of  the  truth  and  loyalty  of  her  kinsman  which 
could  not  be  eradicated,  and  he  soon  after  took  a  spirited  step 
which  disconcerted  entirely  the  measures  of  his  enemies,  and 
placed  him  higher  than  ever  in  her  confidence  and  esteem.  Cecil 
thus  relates  the  circumstance  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Norris, 
dated  February  1570. 

"The  earl  of  Sussex  upon  desire  to  see  her  majesty, 

came  hither  unlooked  for ;  and  although,  in  the  beginning  of  this 
northern  rebellion,  her  majesty  sometimes  uttered  some  mislik- 
ing  of  the  earl,  yet  this  day  she,  meaning  to  deal  very  princely 
with  him,  in  presence  of  her  council,  charged  him  with  such 
things  as  she  had  heard  to  cause  her  misliking,  without  any  note 
of  mistrust  towards  .him  for  his  fidelity;  whereupon  he  did  with 
such  humbleness,  wisdom,  plainness  and  dexterity,  answer  her 
majesty,  as  both  she  and  all  the  rest  were  fully  satisfied,  and  he 
adjudged  by  good  proofs  to  have  served  in  all  this  time  faithfully, 
and  so  circumspectly,  as  it  manifestly  appeareth  that  if  he  had 
not  so  used  himself  in  the  beginning,  the  whole  north  part  had 
entered  into  the  rebellion." 

A  formidable  mass  of  discontent  did  in  fact  subsist  among  the 
catholics  of  the  north,  and  it  was  not  long  before  a  new  and  more 
daring  leader  found  means  to  set  it  again  in  fierce  and  violent 
action. 

Leonard  Dacre  had  found  no  opportunity  to  take  part  in  the 
enterprise  of  the  two  earls,  though  a  deep  participator  in  their 
counsels ;  for  knowing  that  their  design  could  not  yet  be  ripe 
for  execution,  and  foreseeing  as  little  as  the  rest  of  the  faction 
those  measures  of  the  queen  by  which  their  affairs  were  prema- 
turely brought  to  a  crisis,  he  had  proceeded  to  court  on  his  pri- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


249 


vatc  concerns,  and  was  there  amusing  her  majesty  with  protesta- 
tions of  his  unalterable  fidelity  and  attachment,  while  his  asso- 
ciates in  the  north  were  placing  their  lands  and  lives  on  the  haz- 
ard of  rebellion.  Learning  on  his  journey  homewards  the  total 
discomfiture  of  the  earls,  he  carefully  preserved  the  semblance 
of  a  zealous  loyalty,  till,  having  armed  the  retainers  of  his  family 
on  pretence  of  preserving  the  country  in  the  queen's  obedience, 
and  having  strongly  garrisoned  its  hereditary  castles  of  Naworth 
and  Greystock,  which  he  wrested  from  the  custody  of  the  How- 
ards, he  declared  himself,  and  broke  out  into  violent  rebellion. 

The  late  severities  had  rather  exasperated  than  subdued  the 
spirit  of  disaffection  in  this  neighbourhood,  and  three  thousand 
men  ranged  themselves  under  the  scallop-shells  of  Dacre : — a 
well  known  ensign  which  from  age  to  age  had  marshalled  the 
hardy  borderers  to  deeds  of  warlike  prowess.  Lord  Hunsdon, 
the  governor  of  Berwick,  marched  promptly  forth  with  all  the 
force  he  could  muster  to  disperse  the  rebels  :  but  this  time  they 
stood  firmly  on  the  banks  of  the  little  river  Gelt,  to  give  him  bat- 
tle. Such  indeed  was  the  height  of  fanaticism  or  despair  to 
which  these  unhappy  people  were  wrought  up,  that  the  phrensy 
gained  the  softer  sex ;  and  there  were  seen  in  their  ranks,  says 
the  chronicler,  "  many  desperate  women  that  gave  the  adventure 
of  their  lives,  and  fought  right  stoutly."  After  a  sharp  action, 
in  which  about  three  hundred  were  left  dead  on  the  field,  victory 
at  length  declared  for  the  queen's  troops ;  and  Leonard  Dacre, 
who  had  bravely  sustained,  notwithstanding  the  deformity  of  his 
person,  the  part  of  a  soldier  as  well  as  general,  seeing  that  all 
was  lost,  turned  his  horse's  head  and  rode  oft*  full  speed  for  Scot- 
land, whence  he  passed  into  Flanders,  and  took  up  at  Lovain  his 
melancholy  abode. 

The  treason  of  this  unfortunate  gentleman  was,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, both  notorious  and  heinous  ;  and  had  he  been  intercept- 
ed in  making  his  escape,  no  blame  could  have  attached  to  Eliza- 
beth in  exacting  the  full  penalty  of  his  offence.  But  when,  five- 
and-twenty  years  after  this  time,  we  find  his  aged  mother  at 
court  "  an  earnest  suitor"  for  the  pardon  of  her  two  sons  ;'*  ob- 
taining, probably  by  costly  bribes,  a  promise  of  admission  to  the 
queen's  presence,  and  at  length  gaining  nothing  more, — it  is  im- 
possible not  to  blame  or  lament  that  relentless  severity  of  temper 
which  rendered  Elizabeth  so  much  a  stranger  to  the  fairest  attri- 
bute of  sovereign  power.  The  case  of  Francis  Dacre,  indeed, 
was  one  which  ought  to  have  appealed  to  her  sense  of  justice  ra- 
ther than  to  her  feelings  of  mercy.  This  gentleman,  after  the 
expatriation  and  attainder  of  his  elder  brother,  had  prosecuted  at 
law  the  claims  to  the  honours  and  lands  of  the  barony  of  Gilsland 
which  had  thus  devolved  upon  him  ;  but  being  baffled  in  all  his 
appeals  to  the  equity  of  the  courts,  he  had  withdrawn  in  disgust 
to  Flanders,  and,  on  this  account,  suft'ered  a  sentence  of  outlaw- 
ry.   He  lived  and  died  in  exile,  leaving  a  son  named  Ranulph, 


*  Letter  of  R.  Whyte  in  «  Sidney  Papers." 
\  i 


250 


THE  COURT  OF 


heir  only  to  poverty  and  misfortunes,  to  noble  blood,  and  to 
rights  which  he  was  destitute  of  the  power  of  rendering  available. 
Lord  Dacre  of  the  south,  as  he  was  usually  called,  settled  on  this 
poor  man,  his  very  distant  relation,  a  small  annuity  ;  and  on  his 
death  the  following  lord  Dacre,  becoming  the  heir  male  of  the 
family,  received  by  way  of  compromise  from  the  Howards  no  less 
than  thirteen  matters  which  they  had  enjoyed  to  the  prejudice  of 
Leonard  Dacre,  of  his  brother  and  of  his  nephew. 

On  the  suppression  of  this  second  rising  in  the  north,  the 
queen,  better  advised  or  instructed  by  experience,  granted  a  ge- 
neral pardon  to>all  but  its  leader,;  and  such  was  the  effect  of  this 
lenity,  or  of  the  example  of  repeated  failure  on  the  part  of  the 
insurgents,  that  the  internal  tranquillity  of  her  kingdom  was  ne- 
ver more  disturbed  from  this  quarter,  the  most  dangerous  of  all 
from  the  vicinity  of  Scotland. 

The  earl  of  Sussex  had  been  kept  for  some  time  in  a  state  of 
dissatisfaction,  as  appears  from  one  of  his  letters  to  Cecil,  by 
her  majesty's  dilatoriness  in  conferring  upon  him  such  a  mark 
of  her  special  favour  as  she  had  graciously  promised  at  the  con- 
clusion of  his  satisfactory  defence  of  himself  before  the  council ; 
but  she  appeased  at  length  his  wounded  feelings,  by  admitting 
him  to  the  council-board,  and  giving  him  the  command  of  a  strong 
force  appointed  to  act  on  the  Scottish  border. 

The  occasion  for  this  military  movement  arose  out  of  the  tra- 
gical incident  of  the  assassination  of  the  regent  Murray,  which 
had  proved  the  signal  for  a  furious  inroad  upon  the  English  lim- 
its by  some  of  the  southern  clausJtwho  found  themselves  imme- 
diately released  from  the  restraints  of  an  administration  vigour- 
ons  enough  to  make  the  lawless  tremble.  Sussex  was  ordered 
to  chastise  their  insolence  ;  and  he  performed  the  task  tho- 
roughly and  pitilessly,  laying  waste  with  fire  and  sword  the  whole 
obnoxious  district. 

Besides  recognising  in  Murray  a  valuable  coadjutor,  neighbour, 
and  ally,  Elizabeih  appears  to  have  loved  and  esteemed  him  as 
a  man  and  a  friend,  jnd  she  bewailed  his  death  with  an  excess 
of  dejection  honourable  surely  to  her  feelings,  though  regarded 
by  some  as  derogatory  from  the  dignity  of  her  station  It  was, 
indeed,  an  event  which  broke  all  her  measures,  and  which,  at  a 
period  when  difficulties  and  dangers  were  besetting  her  on  all 
hands,  added  fresh  embarrassment  to  her  perplexity,  and  present- 
ed new  chances  of  evil  to  her  fears.  What  degree  of  compunc- 
tion she  felt  for  her  unjustifiable  detention  of  Mary  may  be 
doubtful  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  her  mind  was  now  shaken  with 
perpetual  terrors  and  anxieties  for  the  consequences  of  that  irre- 
vocable step,  and  that  there  was  nothing  which  she  more  ear- 
nestly desired  than  to  transfer  to  other  hands  the  custody  of  s® 
dangerous  a  prisoner. 

She  had  nearly  concluded  an  agreement  for  this  purpose  with 
Murray,  to  whom  she  was  to  have  surrendered  the  person  of  the 
captive  queen,  receiving  six  Scottish  noblemen  as  hostages  for 
her  safe  keeping ;  and  though  the  interference  of  the  French  and 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


251 


Spanish  ambassadors  had  obliged  her  to  suspend  its  execution, 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  design  was  relinquished, 
when  this  unexpected  stroke  rendered  it  for  ever  impracticable. 
The  regency  of  Scotland,  too,  was  now  to  be  contested  by  the 
enraged  factions  of  that  distracted  country,  and  it  was  of  great 
importance  to  Elizabeth  that  the  victory  should  fall  to  the  party 
oi*  the  young  king  ;  yet  such  were  the  perplexities  of  her  politi- 
cal situation,  that  it  was  some  time  before  she  could  satisfy  her- 
self that  there  would  not  be  too  great  a  hazard  in  supporting  by 
arms  the  election  of  the  earl  of  Lenox,  to  whom  .she  gave  her  in- 
terest. 

Her  first  recourse  was  to  her  favourite  arts  of  intrigue;  and 
she  sent  Randolph,  her  chosen  instrument  for  these  occasions,  to 
tamper  with  various  party-leaders,  while  Sussex,  whose  character 
inclined  hirmmore  to  measures  of  coercion,  exhorted  her  to  put 
an  end  to  her  irresolution  and  throw  the  sword  into  the  scale  of 
Lenox.  She  at  length  found  reason  to  adopt  this  counsel ;  and 
the  earl,  re-entering  Scotland  with  his  army,  laid  waste  the 
lands,  and  took  or  destroyed  the  castles  of  Mary's  adherents. 

Sir  William  Drury,  marshal  of  the  army,  was  afterwards  sent 
further  into  the  country  to  chastise  the  Hamiltons,  of  which  clan 
was  the  assassin  of  Murray. 

The  contemporary  accounts  of  this  expedition,  amid  many  la- 
mentable particulars  of  ravages  committed,  afford  one  amusing 
trait  of  manners.  Lord  Fleming,  who  held  out  Dumbarton  cas- 
tle for  the  queen  of  Scots,  had  demanded  a  parley  with  sir  Wil- 
liam Drury,  during  which  he  treacherously  caused  him  to  be  fir- 
ed upon  ;  happily  without  effect.  Sir  George  Gary,  burning  to 
avenge  the  injury  offered  to  his  commander,  sent  immediately  a 
letter  of  defiance  to  lord  Fleming,  challenging;  him  to  meet  him 
in  single  combat  on  this  quarrel,  when,  where,  and  how  he  dares; 
concluding  thus  :  "  Otherwise  I  will  baffle  your  good  name,  sound 
with  the  trumpet  your  dishonour,  and  paint  your  picture  with 
the  heels  upward  and  bear  it  in  despite  of  yourself."  That  this 
was  not  the  only  species  of  affront  to  which  portraits  were  in 
these  days  exposed,  w  e  learn  from  an  expression  of  Ben  Jonson's: 
— "Take  as  unpardonable  offence  as  if  he  had  torn  your  mis- 
tress's colours,  or  breathed  on  her  picture."* 

The  Scotch  war  was  terminated  a  few  months  after,  by  an 
agreement  between  Elizibeth  and  Mary,  by  virtue  of  which  the 
former  consented  to  withdraw  her  troops  from  the  country  on 
the  engagement  of  the  latter  that  no  French  forces  should  enter 
it  in  support  of  her  title.  After  this  settlement,  Elizabeth  re- 
turned to  her  usual  ambiguous  dealing  in  the  affairs  of  Scotland; 
and  so  far  from  insisting  that  Lenox  should  be  named  regent,  she 
sent  a  request  to  the  heads  of  the  king's  party  that  they  would 
refrain  for  a  time  from  the  nomination  of  any  person  to  that  of- 
fice. In  consequence  of  this  mandate,  which  they  dared  not  dis- 
obey, Lenox  was  only  chosen  lieutenant  for  a  time;  an  appoint- 


*  See  <;  Every  3i|an  out  ot*  his  Humour." 


252 


THE  COURT  OF 


ment  which  served  equally  well  the  purposes  of  the  English 
queen. 

Connected  with  all  the  other  measures  adopted  by  the  zeal  of 
the  great  catholic  combination  for  the  destruction  of  Elizabeth, 
and  the  ruin  of  the  protestant  cause,  was  one  from  which  their 
own  narrow  prejudices  or  sanguine  wishes,  rather  than  any  just 
views  of  the  state  of  public  opinion  in  England,  led  them  to  an- 
ticipate important  results.  This  was  the  publication  of  a  papal 
bull  solemnly  anathematising  the  queen,  and  dispensing  her  sub- 
jects from  their  oath  of  allegiance.  A  fanatic  named  Fulton 
was  found  willing  to  earn  the  crown  of  martyrdom  by  affixing 
this  instrument  to  the  gate  of  the  bishop  of  London's  palace.  He 
was  taken  in  the  fact,  and  suffered  the  penalty  of  treason  with- 
out exciting  a  murmur  among  the  people.  A  trifling  insurrec- 
tion in  Norfolk  ensued,  of  which,  however,  the  papal  bull  was 
not  openly  assigned  as  the  motive,  and  which  was  speedily 
suppressed  with  the  punishment  of  a  few  of  the  offenders 
according  to  law*  Even  the  catholic  subjects  of  Elizabeth  for 
the  most  part  abhorred  the  idea  of  lifting  their  hands  against 
her  government  and  the  peace  of  their  native  land ;  and  several 
of  them  were  now  found  among  the  foremost  and  most  sincere  in 
their  offers  of  service  against  the  disaffected. 

On  the  whole,  the  result  of  the  great  trial  of  the  hearts  of  her 
people  afforded  to  the  queen  by  the  alarms  of  this  anxious  pe- 
riod, was  satisfactory  beyond  all  example.  Henceforth  she  knew, 
and  the  world  knew,  the  firmness  of  that  rock  on  which  her 
throne  was  planted  ; — based  on  religion,  supported  by  wisdom 
and  fortitude,  and  adorned  by  every  attractive  art,  it  stood  dear 
and  venerable  to  her  people,  defying  the  assaults  of  her  baffled 
and  malignant  enemies.  The  anniversary  of  her  accession  began 
this  year  to  be  celebrated  by  popular  festivals  all  over  the  coun- 
try ; — a  practice  which  was  retained,  not  only  to  the  end  of  the 
reign,  but  for  many  years  afterwards,  during  which  the  1 7th  of 
November  continued  to  be  solemnly  observed  under  designation 
of  the  Birthday  of  the  Gospel. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

1571  to  1573. 

Notice  of  sir  T.  Gresham. — Building  of  his  exchange. —  The 
queen's  visit  to  it. — Cecil  created  lord  Burleigh  and  lord-trea- 
surer.— Justs  at  Westminster. — Notices  of  the  earl  of  Oxford, 
Charles  Howard,  sir  H.  Lee,  sir  Chr.  Hatton. — Fresh  negocia- 
tions  for  the  marriage  of  Elizabeth  with  the  duke  oj  Anjou. — 
Renewal  of  the  intrigues  of  Norfolk. — His  re-committal,  trial, 
and  conviction. — Death  of  Thro^morton. — Sonnet  by  Elizabeth. 
— Norfolk  beheaded. — His  character  and  descendants. — Hostility 
of  Spain. — Wylson's  translation  of  Demosthenes. — Walsingham 
ambassador  to  France. — Treaty  with  that  country. — Massacre 
of  Paris. — Temporising  conduct  of  Elizabeth. — Burleigh's  cal- 
culation of  the  queen's  nativity. — Notice  of  Philip  Sidney. 

From  the  intrigues  and  violences  of  crafty  politicians  and 
discontented  nobles,  we  shall  now  turn  to  trace  the  prosper- 
ous and  honourable  career  of  a  private  English  merchant,  whose 
abilities  and  integrity  introduced  him  to  the  notice  of  his  sove- 
reign, and  whose  patriotic  munificence  still  preserves  to  him  the 
respectful  remembrance  of  posterity.  This  merchant  was  Tho- 
mas Gresham.  Born  of  a  family  at  once  enlightened,  wealthy 
and  commercial,  he  had  shared  the  advantage  of  an  education  at 
the  university  of  Cambridge  previously  to  his  entrance  on  the 
walk  of  life  to  which  he  was  destined,  and  which,  fortunately  for 
himself,  his  superior  acquirements  did  not  tempt  him  to  desert 
or  to  despise. 

His  father,  sir  Richard  Gresham,  had  been  agent  to  Henry 
VIII.  for  the  negotiation  of  loans  with  the  merchants  of  Antwerp, 
and  in  1552  he  himself  was  nominated  to  act  in  a  similar  capa- 
city to  Edward  VI.,  when  he  was  eminently  serviceable  in  re- 
deeming the  credit  of  the  king,  sunk  to  the  lowest  ebb  by  the 
mismanagement  of  his  father's  immediate  successor  in  the  agen- 
cy. Under  Elizabeth  he  enjoyed  the  same  appointment,  to  which 
was  added  that  of  queen's  merchant;  and  it  appears  by  the  offi- 
cial letters  of  the  time,  that  political  as  well  as  pecuniary  affairs 
were  often  entrusted  to  his  discreet  and  able  management. 
was  also  a  spirited  promoter  of  the  infant  manufactures  of  his 
country,  several  of  which  owed  to  him  their  first  establishment. 
By  his  diligence  and  commercial  talents  he  at  length  rendered 
himself  the  most  opulent  subject  in  the  kingdom,  and  the  queen 
showed  her  sense  of  his  merit  and  consequence  by  bestowing  on 
him  the  honour  of  knighthood. 

Gresham  had  always  made  a  liberal  and  patriotic  use  of  his 
wealth ;  but  after  the  death  of  his  only  son,  in  1564,  he  formed 
the  resolution  of  making  his  country  his  principal  heir.  The 
merchants  of  London  had  hitherto  been  unprovided  with  any 


254 


THE  COURT  OF 


building  in  the  nature  of  a  burse  or  exchange,  such  as  Gresham 
had  seen  in  the  great  commercial  cities  of  Flanders ;  and  he  now 
munificently  offered,  if  the  city  would  give  him  a  piece  of  ground, 
to  build  them  one  at  his  own  expense.  The  edifice  was  begun 
accordingly  in  1566,  and  finished  within  three  years.  It  was  a 
quadrangle  of  brick,  with  walks  on  the  ground  floor  for  the  mer- 
chants, (who  now  ceased  to  transact  their  business  in  the  middle 
aisle  of  St.  Paul's  cathedral,)  with  vaults  for  warehouses  be- 
neath and  a  range  of  shops  above,  from  the  rent  of  which  the 
proprietor  sought  some  remuneration  for  his  great  charges.  But 
the  shops  did  not  immediately  find  occupants  ;  and  it  seems  to 
have  been  partly  with  the  view  of  bringing  them  into  vogue  that 
the  queen  promised  her  countenance  to  the  undertaking,  In 
January  1571,  attended  by  a  splendid  train,  she  entered  the  city  ; 
and  after  dining  with  sir  Thomas  at  his  spacious  mansion  in 
Bishopsgate-street  (still  remaining),  she  repaired  to  the  burse, 
visited  every  part  of  it,  and  caused  proclamation  to  be  made  by 
sound  of  trumpet  that  henceforth  it  should  bear  the  name  of  the 
Royal  Exchange.  Gresham  offered  the  shops  rent-free  for  a  year 
to  such  as  would  furnish  them  with  wares  and  wax  lights  against 
the  coming  of  the  queen  ;  and  a  most  sumptuous  display  was 
made  of  the  richest  commodities  and  manufactures  of  every  quar- 
ter of  the  globe. 

Afterwards  the  shops  of  the  exchange  became  the  favourite  re- 
sort  of  fashionable  customers  of  both  sexes  :  much  money  was 
squandered  here,  and,  if  we  are  to  trust  the  representations  of 
satirists  and  comic  writers,  many  reputations  lost.  The  building 
was  destroyed  in  the  fire  of  London ;  and  the  divines  of  that 
day,  according  to  their  custom,  pronounced  this  catastrophe  a 
judgment  on  the  avarice  and  unfair  dealing  of  the  merchants  and 
shopkeepers,  and  the  pride,  prodigality  and  luxury  of  the  pur- 
chasers and  idlers  by  whom  it  was  frequented  and  maintained. 

Elizabeth  soon  after  paid  homage  to  merit  in  another  form,  by 
conferring  on  her  invaluable  servant  Cecil, — whose  wisdom, 
firmness  and  vigilance  had  most  contributed  to  preserve  her 
unhurt  amid  the  machinations  of  her  implacable  enemies, — the 
dignity  of  baron  of  Burleigh;  an  elevation  which  might  provoke 
the  envy  or  resentment  of  some  of  the  courtiers  his  opponents, 
but  which  was  hailed  by  the  applauses  of  the  people. 

Before  the  close  of  the  year,  the  death,  at  a  great  but  not  ve- 
nerable age,  of  that  corrupt  and  selfish  statesman  the  marquis  of 
Winchester,  afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  apportioning  to  the 
new  dignity  of  her  secretary,  a  suitable  advance  in  office  and 
emolument,  by  conferring  on  him  the  post  of  lord -high-treasurer, 
which  be  continued  to  enjoy  to  the  end  of  his  life. 

On  the  first  of  May,  and  the  two  following  days,  solemn  justs 
were  held  before  the  queen  at  Westminster;  in  which  the  chal- 
lengers were,  the  earl  of  Oxford,  Charles  Howard,  sir  Henry 
Lee  and  sir  Christopher  Hatton, — all  four  deserving  of  biographi- 
cal commemoration. 

Edward,  earl  of  Oxford  was  the  seventeenth  of  the  illustrious 
family  of  Yere  who  had  borne  that  title,  and  his  character  pre- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


255 


sented  an  extraordinary  union  of  the  haughtiness,  violence  and 
impetuosity  of  the  feudal  baron,  with  many  of  the  elegant  pro- 
pensities and  mental  accomplishments  which  adorn  the  nobleman 
of  a  happier  age.  It  was  probably  to  his  travels  in  Italy  that  he 
owed  his  more  refined  tastes,  both  in  literature  and  in  Luxury, 
and  it  was  thence  that  he  brought  those  perfumed  and  embroi- 
dered gloves  which  he  was  the  first  to  introduce  into  England. 
A  superb  pair  which  he  presented  to  her  majesty  were  so  much 
approved  by  her,  that  she  sat  for  her  portrait  with  them  on  her 
hands.  These  gloves  became  of  course  highly  fashionable,  but 
those  prepared  in  Spain  were  soon  found  to  excel  in  scent  all 
others;  and  the  importance  attached  to  this  discovery,  may  be 
estimated  by  the  following  commission  given  by  sir  Nicholas 
Throgmorton,  then  in  France,  to  sir  Thomas  Chaloner,  ambas- 
sador in  Spain: — "I  pray  you,  good  my  lord  ambassador,  send 
me  two  pair  of  perfumed  gloves,  perfumed  with  orange-flowers 
and  jasmin,  the  one  for  my  wife's  hand,  the  other  for  mine  own  : 
and  wherein  soever  I  can  pleasure  you  with  any  thing  in  this 
country,  you  shall  have  it  in  recompense  thereof,  or  else  so  much 
money  as  they  shall  cost  you  ;  provided  always  that  they  be  of 
the  best  choice,  wherein  your  judgment  is  inferior  to  none."* 

The  earl  of  Oxford  enjoyed  in  his  own  times  a  high  poetical 
reputation  ;  but  his  once  celebrated  comedies  have  perished,  and 
two  or  three  fugitive  pieces  inserted  in  collections  are  the  only 
legacy  bequeathed  to  posterity  by  his  muse^  Of  these,  "The 
complaint  of  a  lover  wearing  black  and  tawny"  has  ceased,  in 
the  change  of  manners  and  fashions,  to  interest  or  affect  the  rea- 
der. "  Fancy  and  Desire"  may  still  lay  claim  to  the  praise  of 
ingenuity,  though  the  idea  is  perhaps  not  original  even  here,  and 
lias  since  been  exhibited  with  very  considerable  improvements 
both  in  French  and  English,  especially  in  Ben  .Tonson's  celebra- 
ted song,  "Tell  me  where  was  Fancy  bred?"  Two  or  three 
stanzas  may  bear  quotation. 

"  Where  wert  thou  born  Desire  ?" 

"  In  pomp  and  pride  of  May." 

"  By  whom,  sweet  boy,  wert  thou  begot  ?" 

"  By  Fond  Conceit,  men  say." 

"  Tell  me  who  was  thy  nurse  ?" 

"  Fresh  Youth  in  sugred  joy." 

"  What  was  thy  meat  and  daily  food  ?" 

"  Sad  sighs  with  great  annoy." 

"  What  had'st  thou  then  to  drink  ?" 
"  Unsavoury  lovers'  tears." 
"  What  cradle  wert  thou  rocked  in  ?" 
"  In  hope  devoid  of  fears."  &c. 

In  the  chivalrous  exercises  of  the  tilt  and  tournament  the  earl 


*  "BurleigU  Papers,"  by  Haynes. 


256 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  Oxford  had  few  superiors  :  he  was  victor  in  the  justs  both  of 
this  year  and  of  the  year  1580,  and  on  the  latter  occasion  he  was 
led  by  two  ladies  into  the  presence  chamber,  all  armed  as  he  was, 
to  receive  a  prize  from  her  majesty's  own  hand.  Afterwards, 
by  gross  misconduct,  he  incurred  from  his  sovereign  a  disgrace 
equally  marked  and  public,  being  committed  to  the  Tower  for  an 
attempt  on  one  of  her  maids  of  honour.  On  other  occasions,  his 
lawless  propensities  broke  out  with  violence  which  Elizabeth 
herself  was  scarcely  able  to  restrain. 

He  had  openly  begun  to  muster  his  friends,  retainers  and  ser- 
vants, to  take  vengeance  on  sir  Thomas  Knevet,  by  whom  he  had 
been  wounded  in  a  duel ;  and  the  queen,  who  interfered  to  pre- 
vent the  execution  of  this  savage  design,  was  obliged  for  some 
time  to  appoint  Knevet  a  guard  in  order  to  secure  his  life.  He 
also  publicly  insulted  sir  Philip  Sidney  in  the  tennis-court  of  the 
palace  ;  and  her  majesty  could  discover  no  other  means  of  pre- 
venting fatal  consequences  than  compelling  sir  Philip  Sidney,  as 
the  inferior  in  rank,  to  compromise  the  quarrel  on  terms  which 
he  regarded  as  so  inequitable  and  degrading,  that  after  transmit- 
ting to  her  majesty  a  spirited  remonstrance  against  encouraging 
the  insolence  of  the  great  nobles,  he  retired  to  Penshurst  in  dis- 
gust. The  duke  of  Norfolk  was  the  nephew  of  this  earl  of  Ox- 
ford, who  was  very  strongly  attached  to  him,  and  used  the  utmost 
urgency  of  entreaty  with  Burleigh,  whose  daughter  he  had  mar- 
ried, to  prevail  on  him  to  procure  his  pardon  :  "  but  not  succeed- 
ing," says  lord  Orford,"  he  was  so  incensed  against  that  minis- 
ter, that  in  most  absurd  and  unjust  revenge,  (though  the  cause 
was  amiable,)  he  swore  he  would  do  all  he  could  to  ruin  his 
daughter ;  and  accordingly,  not  only  forsook  her  bed,  but  sold 
and  consumed  great  part  of  the  vast  inheritance  descended  to 
him  from  his  ancestors."* 

This  remarkable  person  died  very  aged  early  in  the  reign  of 
James  I. 

Sir  Charles  Howard,  eldest  son  of  lord  Howard  of  Effingham, 
was,  at  this  period  of  his  life  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  uncom- 
mon beauty  of  his  person, — a  species  of  merit  never  overlooked 
by  her  majesty, — for  grace  and  agility  in  his  exercises,  and  for 
the  manners  of  an  accomplished  courtier.  At  no  time  was  he  re- 
garded as  a  person  of  profound  judgment,  and  of  vanity  and  self- 
consequence  he  is  said  to  have  possessed  an  abundant  share.  He 
was,  however,  brave,  courteous,  liberal,  and  diligent  in  aftairs ; 
and  the  favour  of  the  queen  admitted  him,  in  1585,  to  succeed 
his  father  in  the  office  of  lord-high-admiral.  His  intrepid  bear- 
ing, in  the  year  1588,  encouraged  his  sailors  to  meet  the  terrible 
Armada  with  stout  hearts  and  cheerful  countenances,  and  the 
glory  of  its  defeat  was  as  much  his  own  as  the  participation  of 
winds  and  waves  would  allow.  In  consideration  of  this  distin- 
guished piece  of  service  he  was  created  earl  of  Nottingham ; 
and  the  queen's  partiality  towards  her  relations  increasing  with 
her  years,  he  became,  towards  the  end  of  the  reign,  one  of  the 

*  "  Royal  and  Noble  Authors. " 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


257 


most  considerable  persons  at  her  court,  where  his  hostility  to 
Essex  grew  equally  notorious  with  the  better  grounded  antipa- 
thy entertained  by  Sussex,  also  a  royal  kinsman  against  Leices- 
ter, the  earlier  favourite  of  her  majest  y. 

The  earl  of  Nottingham  survived  to  the  year  1624,  the  88th 
of  his  age. 

Sir  Henry  Lee  was  one  of  the  finest  courtiers  and  certainly 
the  most  complete  knight-errant  of  his  time.    He  was  now  in 
the  fortieth  year  of  his  age,  had  travelled,  and  seen  some  mili- 
tary service;  but  the  tilt-yard  was  ever  the  scene  of  his  most 
conspicuous  exploits  and  those  in  which  he  placed  his  highest 
glory.    He  had  declared  himself  the  queen's  own  knight  and 
champion,  and  having  inscribed  upon  his  shield  the  constellation 
of  Ariadne's  Crown,  culminant  in  her  majesty's  nativity,  bound 
himself  by  a  solemn  vow  to  appear  armed  in  the  tilt-yard  on 
every  anniversary  of  her  happy  accession  till  disabled  by  age. 
This  vow  gave  origin  to  the  annual  exercises  of  the  Knights-Til- 
ters,  a  society  consisting  of  twenty -five  of  the  most  gallant  and 
favoured  of  the  courtiers  of  Elizabeth.    The  modern  reader  may 
wonder  to  find  included  in  this  number  so  grave  an  officer  as 
Bromley,  lord  chancellor ;  but  under  the  maiden  reign  neither 
the  deepest  statesman,  the  most  studious  lawyer,  nor  the  rudest 
soldier  was  exempted  from  the  humiliating  obligation  of  accept- 
ing, and  even  soliciting,  those  household  and  menial  offices 
usually  discharged  by  mere  courtiers,  nor  from  the  irksome  one 
of  assuming,  for  the  sake  of  their  sovereign  lady,  the  romantic 
disguise  of  armed  champions  and  enamoured  knights.    Sir  Henry 
Lee,  however,  appears  to  have  devoted  his  life  to  these  chival- 
rous pageantries  rather  from  a  quixotical  imagination  than  with 
any  serious  views  of  ambition  or  interest.    He  was  a  gentleman 
of  ancient  family  and  plentiful  fortune,  little  connected,  as  far  as 
appears,  with  any  court  faction  or  political  party,  and  neither 
capable  nor  ambitious  of  any  public  station  of  importance.  It 
is  an  amiable  and  generous  trait  of  his  character,  that  he  attend- 
ed the  unfortunate  duke  of  Norfolk  even  to  the  scaffold,  receiv- 
ed his  last  embrace,  and  repeated  to  the  assembled  multitude 
his  request  that  they  would  assist  him  with  their  prayers  in  his 
final  agony.    His  royal  Dulcinea  rewarded  his  fatigues  and  his 
adoration  by  the  lieutenancy  of  Woodstock  manor,  the  office  of 
keeper  of  the  armoury,  and  especially  by  the  appropriate  meed 
of  admission  into  the  most  noble  order  of  the  Garter.    He  re- 
signed the  championship  at  the  approach  of  old  age,  with  a  sol- 
emn ceremony  hereafter  to  be  described,  died  at  his  mansion  of 
Quarendon  in  Bucks,  in  1611,  in  his  81st  year,  and  was  interred 
in  the  parish  church  under  a  splendid  tomb  hung  round  with 
military  trophies,  and  inscribed  with  a  very  long,  very  quaint 
and  very  tumid  epitaph. 

Christopher  Hatton,  the  last  of  this  undaunted  band  of  chal- 
lengers, was  a  new  competitor  for  the  smiles  of  royalty,  and 
bright  was  the  dawn  of  fortune  and  of  favour  which  already 
broke  upon  him.    He  was  of  a  decayed  family  of  Northampton- 

K  k 


258 


THE  COURT  OF 


shire  gentry,  and  had  just  commenced  the  study  of  the  law  at 
one  of  the  inns  of  court,  when  hope  or  curiosity  stimulated  him 
to  gain  admittance  at  some  court-festival,  where  he  had  an  op- 
portunity of  dancing  before  the  queen  in  a  mask.  His  figure 
and  his  performance  so  captivated  her  fancy,  that  she  immediate- 
ly bestowed  upon  him  some  flattering  marks  of  attention,  which 
encouraged  him  to  quit  his  profession  and  turn  courtier. 

This  showy  outside  and  these  gay  accomplishments  were  un- 
expectedly found  in  union  with  a  moderate  and  cautious  temper, 
enlightened  views,  and  a  solid  understanding;  and  after  due  de- 
liberation, Elizabeth,  that  penetrating  judge  of  men,  decided,  in 
spite  of  ridicule,  that  she  could  not  do  better  than  make  this  su- 
perlatively-excellent dancer  of  galliards  her  lord  chancellor. 

The  enemies  of  Hatton  are  said  to  have  promoted  this  ap- 
pointment in  expectation  of  his  disgracing  himself  by  ignorance 
and  incapacity  ;  but  their  malice  was  disappointed  :  whatever  he 
did  not  know,  he  was  able  to  learn  and  willing  to  be  taught ;  he 
discharged  the  duties  of  his  high  office  with  prudence  first  and 
afterwards  with  ability,  and  died  in  1591,  in  possession  of  it  and  of 
the  public  esteem.  It  is  remarkable,  considering  the  general 
predilection  of  the  queen  in  favour  of  celibacy,  that  Hatton  was 
the  only  one  of  her  ministers  who  lived  and  died  a  bachelor 

Early  in  this  year  the  king  of  France  married  a  daughter  of 
the  emperour  Maximilian  ;  and  Elizabeth,  desirous  at  this  time 
of  being  on  the  best  terms  both  with  the  French  and  Imperial 
courts,  sent  lord  Buckhurst  to  Paris  on  a  splendid  embassy  of 
congratulation. 

Catherine  de'  Medici  took  this  opportunity  of  renewing  pro- 
posals of  marriage  to  the  queen  of  England  on  the  part  of  her  son 
the  duke  of  Anjou,  and  they  were  listened  to  with  an  apparent 
complacency  which  perplexed  the  politicians.  It  is  certainly  to 
this  negotiation,  and  to  the  intrigues  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and 
other  nobles  with  the  queen  of  Scots,  that  Sheakspeare  alludes 
in  the  following  ingenious  and  exquisite  passage. 

•  •  •  •  "Once  I  set  upon  a  promontory, 
And  heard  a  Mermaid  on  a  Dolphin's  back 
Uttering  such  dulcet  and  harmonious  breath, 
That  the  rude  sea  grew  civil  at  her  song ; 
And  certain  stars  shot  madly  from  their  spheres, 
To  hear  the  sea  maid's  music. 

**#***-**•*#    *  * 
That  very  time  I  saw,  but  thou  could'st  not, 
Flying  between  the  cold  moon  and  the  earth., 
Cupid  all-armed  :  a  certain  aim  he  took 
At  a  fair  Vestal  throned  by  the  West, 
And  loos'd  his  love-shaft  smartly  from  his  bow. 
As  it  should  pierce  a  hundred  thousand  hearts  ; 
Brit  I  might  see  young  Cupid's  fiery  shaft 
Quench'd  in  the  chaste  beams  of  the  watry  moon, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  259 

Ami  the  Imperial  Votaress  passed  on, 
In  maiden  meditation,  fancy-free." 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream, 

Unfortunately  for  himself,  the  duke  of  Norfolk  had  not  ac- 
quired, even  from  the  severe  admonition  of  a  long  imprisonment, 
resolution  sufficient  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  enchantments  of 
this  syren.  His  situation  was  indeed  perplexing:  He  had  en- 
tered intd  the  most  serious  engagements  with  his  sovereign  to 
abstain  from  all  further  intercourse  with  the  queen  of  Scots :  at 
the  same  time  the  right  of  Elizabeth  to  interdict  him  an  alliance 
so  flattering  to  his  vanity  might  plausibly  be  questioned,  and  the 
previous  interchange  between  himself  and  Mary  of  solemn  pro- 
mises of  marriage,  seemed  to  have  brought  him  under  obligations 
to  her  too  sacred  to  be  dissolved  by  any  subsequent  stipulation 
of  his,  though  one  to  which  Mary  herself  had  been  compelled  to 
become  a  party.  Neither  had  chivalrous  ideas  by  any  means 
lost  their  force  in  this  age  ;  and  as  a  knight  and  a  gentleman,  the 
duke  must  have  esteemed  himself  bound  in  honour  to  procure 
the  release  of  the  captive  princess,  and  to  claim  through  all  perils 
the  fair  hand  which  had  been  plighted  to  him.  impressed  by 
such  sentiments,  he  returned  to  a  letter  of  eloquent  complaint 
which  she  found  means  to  convey  to  him,  an  answer  filled  with 
assurances  of  his  inviolable  constancy ;  and  the  intrigues  of  the 
party  were  soon  renewed  with  as  much  activity  as  ever. 

But  the  vigilance  of  the  ministry  of  Elizabeth  could  not  long 
be  eluded.  An  important  packet  of  letters  written  by  Ridolfi, 
a  Florentine  who  had  been  sent  abroad  by  the  party  to  confer 
with  the  pope  and  with  the  duke  of  Alva,  was  intercepted ;  and 
in  consequence  of  the  plots  thus  unfolded,  the  bishop  of  Ross, 
who  bore  the  character  of  Mary's  ambassador  in  England,  was 
given  into  private  custody.  Soon  after  a  servant  of  the  duke's, 
intrusted  by  him  with  the  conveyance  ol  a  sum  of  money  from 
the  French  ambassador  to  Mary's  adherents  in  Scotland,  carried 
the  parcel  containing  it  to  the  secretary  of  state.  The  duke's 
secretary  was  then  sent  for  and  examined.  This  man,  who  was 
probably  in  the  pay  of  government,  not  only  confessed  with  rea- 
diness all  that  he  knew,  but  produced  some  letters  from  the 
queen  of  Scots,  which  his  lord  had  commanded  him  to  burn  after 
decyphering  t^em.  Other  concurring  indications  of  the  duke's 
guilt  appearing,  he  was  recommitted  to  the  Tower  in  September 
1571. 

After  various  consultations  of  civilians  on  the  extent  of  an 
ambassador's  privilege,  and  the  title  which  the  agent  of  a  de- 
posed sovereign  must  have  to  avail  himself  of  that  sacred  cha- 
racter, it  was  determined  that  the  laws  of  nations  did  not  protect 
the  bishop  of  Ross,  and  he  was  carried  to  the  Tower,  where,  in 
fear  of  death  he  made  full  confession  of  all  his  machinations 
against  the  person  and  state  of  Elizabeth.  In  the  most  guilty 
parts  of  these  designs  he  affirmed  that  the  duke  had  constantly 
refused  his  concurrence ; — and  in  fact,  weak  and  infatuated  as 


260 


THE  COURT  OF 


he  was,  the  agents  of  Mary  seem  to  have  found  it  impracticable, 
by  all  their  artifices,  to  bring  this  unfortunate  nobleman  entirely 
to  forget  that  "he  was  a  protestant  and  an  Englishman.  He  would 
never  consent  directly  to  procure  the  death  or  dethronement 
of  Elizabeth  ;  though  it  must  have  been  perfectly  evident  to  any 
man  of  clear  and  unbiassed  judgment,  that,  under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, the  accomplishment  of  his  wishes  could  by  no  other 
means  be  attained. 

This  affair  was  regarded  in  so  very  serious  a  light,  that  the 
queen  thought  it  necessary,  before  the  duke  was  put  on  his  trial, 
to  lay  all  the  circumstances  of  his  case  before  the  court  of  France ; 
and  the  parliament,  which  was  again  assembled  after  an  interval 
of  five  years,  passed  some  new  laws  for  the  protection  of  the 
queen's  person  from  the  imminent  perils  by  which  they  saw  her 
environed. 

The  illustrious  prisoner  was  now  brought  before  the  tribunal 
of  his  brother-peers ;  and  a  perfectly  fair  and  regular  trial,  ac- 
cording to  the  practices  of  that  age,  was  accorded  him.  What- 
ever his  intentions  might  have  been,  his  actions  appear  to  have 
come  clearly  within  the  limits  of  treason  ;  and  the  earl  of  Shrews- 
bury, as  lord-high-steward  for  the  day,  pronounced  upon  him, 
with  tears,  a  verdict  of  Guilty.  But  the  queen  hesitated  or  de- 
ferred, from  clemency  or  caution,  to  sign  his  death  warrant,  and 
he  was  remanded  to  the  Tower  under  some  uncertainty  whether 
or  not  the  last  rigour  of  the  offended  laws  awaited  him. 

The  name  of  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton  was  so  mixed  up  in 
the  confessions  of  the  bishop  of  Ross,  that  it  was  perhaps  an  in- 
dulgent fate  which  had  removed  him  some  months  previously 
from  the  sphere  of  human  action.  He  died  at  the  house  of  the 
earl  of  Leicester,  and  certainly  of  a  pleurisy;  but  the  malevolent 
credulity  of  that  age  seldom  allowed  a  person  of  any  eminence 
to  quit  the  world  without  imputing  the  occurrence  in  some  man- 
ner, direct  or  indirect,  to  the  malice  of  his  enemies.  It  was  ru- 
moured that  Throgmorton  had  fallen  a  victim  to  the  hostility  of 
Leicester,  which  he  was  thought  to  have  provoked  by  quitting 
the  party  of  the  earl  to  reconcile  himself  with  Burleigh,  his 
secret  enemy;  and  the  suspicion  of  proficiency  in  the  art  of  poi- 
soning, which  had  so  long  rested  upon  the  favourite,  obtained 
credit  to  this  absurd  report.  Possibly  there  might  be  more  truth 
in  the  general  opinion,  that  it  was  in  some  measure  owing  to  the 
enmity  of  Burleigh  that  a  person  of  such  acknowledged  abilities 
in  public  affairs,  and  one  who  had  conducted  himself  so  skilfully 
in  various  important  negotiations,  should  never  have  been  ad- 
vanced to  any  considerable  office  of  .  trust  or  profit.  But  the 
lofty  and  somewhat  turbulent  spirit  of  Throgmorton  himself, 
ought  probably  to  bear  the  chief  blame  both  of  this  enmity,  and 
of  his  want  of  success  at  the  court  of  a  princess  who  exacted 
from  her  servants  the  exercise  of  the  most  refined  and  cautious 
policy,  as  well  as  an  entire  and  implicit  submission  to  all  her  ■ 
views  and  wishes.  It  is  highly  probable  that  she  never  entirely 
pardoned  Throgmorton  for  giving  the  lie  to  her  declarations  res- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


261 


pecting  the  promises  made  to  the  earl  of  Murray  and  his  party, 
by  the  open  production  of  his  own  diplomatic  instructions. 

The  hostility  of  Leicester  extended,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter, 
to  other  branches  yf  the  unfortunate  family  of  Tnrogmorton, 
whom  an  imprudent  or  criminal  zeal  in  the  cause  of  popery  ex- 
posed without  defence  to  the  whole  weight  of  his  vengeance.  On 
some  slight  pretext  he  procured  the  dismissal  of  sir  John  Throg 
morion,  the  brother  of  sir  Nicholas,  from  his  office  of  c  hief  justice 
of  Chester,  who  did  not  long  survive  the  disgrace,  though  appa- 
rently unmerited.  Puttenham,  author  of  the  "  Arte  of  English 
Poesie,"  ventured,  though  a  professed  courtier,  to  compose  an 
epitaph  on  this  victim  of  oppression,  of  which  he  has  preserved 
to  us  the  following  lines  in  the  work  above  mentioned  : 

"  Whom  Virtue  reared  Envy  hath  overthrown. 
And  lodged  full  low  under  this  marble  stone : 
Ne  never  were  his  values  so  well  known, 
Whilst  he  lived  here,  as  now  that  he  is  gone. 

No  sun  by  day  that  ever  saw  him  rest 
Free  from  the  toils  of  his  so  busy  charge, 
No  night  that  harboured  rancour  in  his  breast, 
Nor  merry  mood  made  reason  run  at  large. 

His  head  a  source  of  gravity  and  sense, 

His  memory  a  shop  of  civil  art; 

His  tongue  a  stream  of  sugred  eloquence, 

Wisdom  and  meekness  lay  mingled  in  his  heart."  Sec. 

The  literary  propensities  of  Elizabeth  have  already  come  un- 
der our  notice :  they  had  frequently  served  to  divert  her  mind 
from  the  cares  of  government;  but  in  the  state  of  unremitted 
anxiety  occasioned  by  her  dread  of  the  machinations  relative  to 
the  queen  of  Scots,  in  which  she  had  found  the  first  peer  of  her 
realm  a  principal  actor,  her  thoughts,  even  in  the  few  leisure 
hours  which  she  found  means  to  bestow  on  these  soothing  re- 
creations, still  hovered  about  the  objects  from  which  she  most 
sought  to  withdraw  them. 

The  following  sonnet  of  her  composition  will  illustrate  this 
remark :  it  was  published  during  her  lifetime  in  Puttenham's 
Arte  of  English  Poesie/'  and  its  authenticity,  its  principal  me- 
rit, has  never  been  called  in  question. 

Sonnet  by  Queen  Elizabeth. 

The  doubt  of  future  foes  exiles  my  present  joy, 
And  wit  me  warns  to  shun  such  snares  as  threaten  mine  annoy, 

For  falsehood  now  doth  Dow,  and  subjects'  faith  doth  ebb ; 
Which  would  not  be  if  Reason  ruled,  or  W  isdom  weaved  the  web : 

But  clouds  of  toys  untried  do  cloak  aspiring  minds, 
Which  turn  to  rain  of  late  repent  by  course  of  changed  winds. 


262  THE  COURT  OF 

The  top  of  hope  supposed  the  root  of  ruth  will  be  ; 
And  fruitless  all  their  grafted  guiles,  as  shortly  ye  shall  see. 

Those  dazzled  eyes  with  pride,  which  great  ambition  blinds, 
Shall  be  unseal'd  by  worthy  wights  whose  foresight  falsehood  findb. 

The  daughter  of  Debate  that  eke  discord  doth  sow, 
Shall  reap  no  gain  where  former  rule  hath  taught  still  peace  to  grow. 

No  foreign  banished  wight  shall  anchor  in  this  port ; 
Our  realm  it  brooks  no  stranger's  force,  let  them  elsewhere  resort. 

Our  rusty  sword  with  rest  shall  first  his  edge  employ. 

To  poll  their  tops  that  seek  such  change,  and  gape  for  joy. 

The  house  of  commons,  in  which  great  dread  and  hatred  of 
the  queen  of  Scots  and  her  adherents  now  prevailed,  showed  itself 
strongly  disposed  to  pass  an  act  by  which  Mary  should  be  declared 
forever  unworthy  and  incapable  of  the  English  succession:  but 
Elizabeth,  with  her  usual  averseness  to  all  unqualified  declara- 
tions and  irrevocable  decisions,  interfered  tc  prevent  the  com- 
pletion of  a  measure  which  most  sovereigns,  under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, would  have  been  eager  to  embrace.  To  the  unani- 
mous expression  of  the  opinion  of  the  house,  that  the  execution  of 
the  sentence  against  the  duke  of  Norfolk  ought  not  to  be  longer 
delayed,  she  was  however  prevailed  upon  to  lend  a  more  favour- 
able ear;  and  on  June  2d,  1572,  this  nobleman  received  his 
death  on  Tower-hill. 

Norfolk  was  a  man  of  many  amiable  and  several  estimable 
qualities,  and  much  too  good  for  the  faction  with  which  he  had 
been  enticed  to  act  and  the  cause  in  which  he  suffered.  On  the 
scaffold  he  acknowledged,  with  great  apparent  sincerity,  the  jus- 
tice of  his  sentence,  and  his  peculiar  guiltiness  in  breaking  the 
solemn  promise  which  he  had  pledged  to  his  sovereign.  He  de- 
clared himself  to  have  been  an  earnest  protestant  ever  since  he 
had  had  any  taste  for  religion,  and  in  this  faith  he  died  very  de- 
voutly. He  bequeathed  by  his  will  his  best  George  to  his  kins- 
man and  true  friend  the  earl  of  Sussex,  whose  faithful  counsels 
he  too  late  reproached  himself  with  neglecting.  By  his  attainder 
the  dukedom  was  lost  to  the  family  of  Howard  ;  but  Philip,  his 
eldest  son,  succeeded  his  maternal  grandfather  in  the  earldom 
of  Arundel ;  lord  Thomas,  his  second  son,  (whose  mother  was  the 
daughter  and  heiress  of  lord  Audley,)  was  created  lord  Howard 
of  Walden  by  Elizabeth  and  earl  of  Suffolk  by  James  ;  and  lord 
William,  the  youngest,  who  possessed  Naworth  castle  in  right 
of  Elizabeth  Dacre  his  wife,  and  was  known  upon  the  West 
Border  (of  which  he  was  warden)  by  the  appellation  of  "  Belted 
Will,"  was  ancestor  to  the  earls  of  Carlisle.* 

The  king  of  Spain  had  long  been  regarded  in  England  as  the 
most  implacable  and  formidable  of  the  enemies  of  Elizabeth ;  and 

*  "  His  bilboa  blade,  by  marchmen  felt, 
Hung  in  a  broad  and  studded  belt ; 
Hence  in  rude  phrase  the  Borderers  still 
Call  noble  Howard,  Beked  Will." 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


263 


on  good  grounds.  It  was  believed  to  be  through  his  procurement 
that  Sixtus  V.  had  been  led  to  fulminate  his  anathema  against 
her; — it  was  well  known  that  the  pope  had  made  a  donation  to 
him  of  the  kingdom  of  Ireland,  of  which  he  was  anxious  to  avail 
himself; — there  was  strong  ground  to  suspect  that  he  had  senl 
one  of  his  ablest  generals  in  embassy  to  England  with  no  other 
view  than  to  have  taken  the  command  of  the  northern  rebels,  had 
their  enterprise  prospered  ; — and  the  intimate  participation  of 
his  agents  in  all  the  intrigues  of  the  queen  of  Scots  was  notori- 
ous. Dr.  Wylson,  a  learned  civilian,  an  accomplished  scholar, 
and  one  of  the  first  refiners  of  English  prose,  had  published  in 
1571,  with  the  express  view  of  rousing  the  spirit  of  his  readers 
against  this  formidable  tyrant,  a  version  of  the  Orations  of  De- 
mosthenes against  the  king  Philip  of  his  day,  and  had  been  at  the 
pains  of  pointing  out  in  the  notes,  coincidences  in  the  situation  of 
Athens  and  of  England.  The  author,  who  was  an  earnest  protes- 
tant,  had  the  further  motive  in  this  work  of  paying  a  tribute  to 
the  memory  of  the  learned  and  unfortunate  Cheke,  who  during 
his  voluntary  exile  had  read  gratuitous  lectures  to  his  country- 
men at  Padua  on  the  works  of  the  great  Grecian  orator,  of  which 
Wylson  had  been  an  auditor,  and  who  had  also  made  a  Latin 
version  of  them,  of  which  the  English  translator  freely  availed 
himself. . 

It  was  principally  her  dread  of  the  Spaniards  which  led  Eliza- 
beth into  those  perpetual  reciprocations  of  deceitful  profes- 
sions and  empty  negotiations  with  the  profligate  and  perfidious 
court  of  France,  which  in  the  judgment  of  posterity  have  re- 
dounded so  little  to  her  honour,  but  which  appeared  to  her  of  so 
much  importance  that  she  now  thought  herself  peculiarly  fortu- 
nate in  having  discovered  an  agent  capable  of  conducting  with 
all  the  wariness,  penetration  and  profound  address  so  peculiarly 
requisite,  where  sincerity  and  good  faith  are  wanting.  This 
agent  was  sir  Francis  Walsingham,  whose  rare  acquisitions  of 
political  knowledge,  made  principally  during  the  period  of  his 
voluntary  exile  for  religion,  and  still  rarer  talents  for  public 
business,  had  induced  lord  Burleigh  to  recommend  him  to  the 
service  and  confidence  of  his  mistress.  For  several  years  from 
this  time  he  resided  as  the  queen's  ambassador  at  the  court  of 
France,  at  first  as  coadjutor  to  sir  Thomas  Smith, — a  learned  and 
able  man,  who  afterwards  became  a  principal  secretary  of  state, 
— the  rest  of  the  time  alone.  There  was  not  in  England  a  man 
who  was  regarded  as  a  more  sincere  and  earnest  protestant  than 
Walsingham  ;  yet  such  was  at  this  time  his  sense  of  the  impor- 
tance to  the  country  of  the  French  alliance,  that  he  expressed 
himself  strongly  in  favour  of  the  match  between  Elizabeth  and 
the  duke  of  Anjou,  and,  as  a  minister,  spared  no  pains  to  pro 
mote  it. 

Similar  language  was  held  on  this  subject  both  by  Leicester 
and  Burleigh  ;  but  the  former  was  perhaps  no  more  in  earnest 
on  the  subject  than  his  mistress  ;  and  finally  all  parties,  except 
the  French  protestants,  who  looked  to  the  conclusion  of  thesr 


564 


THE  COURT  OF 


nuptials  as  their  best  security,  seem  to  have  been  not  ill  pleased 
when,  the  marriage  treaty  being  at  length  laid  aside,  a  strict 
league  of  amity  between  the  two  countries  was  agreed  upon  in  its 
stead. 

Splendid  embassies  were  reciprocally  sent  to  receive  the  ra- 
tifications of  this  treaty  ;  and  Burleigh  writes  to  a  friend,  be- 
tween jest  and  earnest,  that  an  unexpected  delay  of  the  French 
ambassador  was  cursed  by  all  the  husbands  whose  ladies  had 
been  detained  at  great  expense  and  inconvenience  in  London, 
to  contribute  to  the  splendour  of  the  court  on  his  reception.  On 
the  9th  of  June  1572,  the  tluke  de  Montmorenci  and  his  suit  at 
length  arrived.  His  entertainment  was  magnificent;  all  seemed 
peace  and  harmony  between  the  rival  nations  ;  and  Elizabeth 
even  instructed  her  ambassadors  to  give  favourable  ear  to  a  hint 
which  the  queen  mother  had  dropped  of  a  matrimonial  treaty 
between  the  queen  of  England  and  her  youngest  son,  the  duke 
d'Alencon,  who  had  then  scarcely  attained  the  age  of  seventeen. 

Lulled  by  these  flattering  appearances  of  tranquillity,  her  ma- 
jesty set  out  on  her  summer  progress,  and  she  was  enjoying  the 
festivities  prepared  by  Leicester  for  her  reception  at  his  splen- 
did castle  of  Kennel  worth,  when  news  arrived  of  the  execrable 
massacre  of  Paris  ; — an  atrocity  not  to  be  parallelled  in  history  ! 
Troops  of  affrighted  Hugunots,  who  had  escaped  through  a  thou- 
sand perils  with  life,  and  life  alone,  from  the  hands  of  their  pi- 
tiless assassins,  arrived  on  the  English  coast,  imploring  the  com- 
miseration of  their  brother  protestants,  and  relating  in  accents 
of  despair  their  tale  of  horrors.  After  such  a  stroke,  no  one 
knew  what  to  expect ;  the  German  protestants  flew  to  arms ; 
and  even  the  subjects  of  Elizabeth  trembled  for  their  country- 
men travelling  on  the  continent  and  for  themselves  in  their  isl- 
and-home. The  pope  applauded  openly  the  savage  deed;  the  court 
of  Spain  shewed  itself  united  hand  and  heart  with  that  of  France, 
— to  the  astonishment  of  Elizabeth,  who  had  been  taught  to  be- 
lieve them  at  emnity : — and  it  seemed  as  if  the  signal  had  been 
given  of  a  general  crusade  against  the  reformed  churches  of 
Europe. 

For  several  days  fears  were  entertained  for  the  safety  of  Wal- 
singham  himself,  who  had  not  dared  to  transmit  any  account 
of  the  event  except  one  by  a  servant  of  his  ow«,  whose  pas- 
sage had  been  by  some  accident  delayed.  Even  this  minis- 
ter, cautious  and  crafty  and  sagacious  as  he  was,  assisted  by 
all  the  spies  whom  he  constantly  kept  in  pay,  had  been  un- 
able to  penetrate  any  part  of  the  bloody  secret ; — he  was  com- 
pletely taken  by  surprise.  But  of  his  personal  safety  the  per- 
fidious young  king  and  his  detestable  mother  were,  for  their  own 
sakes,  careful ;  and  not  only  were  himself  and  his  servants  pro- 
tected from  injury,  but  every  Englishman  who  had  the  presence 
of  mind  to  take  shelter  in  his  house  found  it  an  inviolable  sanc- 
tuary; Two  persons  only  of  this  nation  fell  victims  to  the  fury 
of  that  direful  night,  but  the  property  of  many  was  plundered. 
The  afflicted  remnant  of  the  French  protestants  prepared  to  stand 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


265 


upon  their  defence  with  all  the  intrepidity  of  despair.  The) 
closed  the  gates  of  Rochelle,  their  strong  hold,  againsl  the  km^ 
troops,  casting  at  the  same  time  an  imploring  eye  towards  En- 
gland, where  thousands  of  brave  and  generous  spirits  were  burn- 
ing with  impatience  to  hasten  to  their  succonr. 

No  act  would  have  been  hailed  with  such  loud  and  general  ap- 
plause of  her  people  as  an  instant  renunciation  by  Elizabeth  of 
all  friendship  and  intercourse  with  the  perjured  and  blood-stain 
ed  Charles,  the  midnight  assassin  of  his  own  subjects  ;  and  it  is 
impossible  to  contemplate  without  disdain  the  coldness  and  lit- 
tleness of  that  character  which,  in  such  a  case,  could  consent 
to  measure  its  demonstrations  of  indignation  and  abhorrence  by 
the  narrow  rules  of  a  self  interested  caution.  But  that  early  ex- 
perience of  peril  and  adversity  which  had  formed  the  mind  of 
this  princess  to  penetration,  wariness,  and  passive  courage,  and 
given  her  a  perfect  command  of  the  whole  art  of  simulation  and 
dissimulation,  had  at  the  same  time  robbed  her  of  some  of  the 
noblest  impulses  of  our  nature  ;  of  generosity,  of  ardour,  of  en- 
terprise, of  magnanimity.  Where  more  exalted  spirits  would 
only  have  left,  she  calculated  :  where  bolder  ones  would  have 
flown  to  action,  she  contented  herself  with  words. 

Charles  and  his  mother,  while  still  in  uncertainty  how  far  their 
master-stroke  of  policy, — so  they  regarded  it, — would  be  suc- 
cessful in  crushing  entirely  the  Hugonots,  prudently  resolved  to 
spare  no  efforts  to  preserve  Elizabeth  their  friend,  or  to  prevent 
her  at  least  from  becoming  an  open  enemy.  Instructions  had 
therefore  been  in  the  first  instance  dispatched  to  La  Mothe  Fene- 
lon,  the  French  ambassador  in  England,  to  communicate  such  an 
account  of  the  massacre  and  its  motives  as  suited  these  views, 
and  to  solicit  a  confirmation  of  the  late  treaty  of  amity.  His  re- 
ception at  court  on  this  occasion  was  extremely  solemn;  the  cour- 
tiers and  ladies  who  lined  the  rooms  leading  to  the  presence- 
chamber  were  all  habited  in  deep  mourning,  and  not  one  of  them 
would  vouchsafe  a  word  or  a  smile  to  the  ambassador,  though 
himself  a  man  of  honour,  and  one  whom  they  had  formerly  re- 
ceived, on  the  footing  of  cordial  intimacy.  The  queen  herself, 
in  listening  to  his  message,  assumed  an  aspect  more  composed, 
but  extremely  cold  and  serious.  She  expressed  her  horror  at 
the  idea  that  a  sovereign  could  imagine  himself  under  a  necessi- 
ty of  taking  such  vengeance  on  his  own  subjects  :  represented 
the  practicability  of  proceeding  with  them  according  to  law,  and 
desired  to  be  better  informed  of  the  reality  of  the  treasonable 
designs  imputed  to  the  Hugonots.  She  also  declared  that  it 
would  be  difficult  for  her  to  place  reliance  hereafter  on  the 
friendship  of  a  prince  who  had  shown  himself  so  deadly  a  foe  to 
those  who  professed  her  religion  ;  but,  at  the  suit  of  the  ambas- 
sador, she  consented  to  suspend  in  some  degree  her  judgment  of 
the  deed  till  further  information. 

Even  these  feeble  demonstrations  of  sensibility  to  crime  so 
enormous  were  speedily  laid  aside.  In  spite  of  Walsingham's 
declared  opinion,  that  the  demonstrations  of  the  French  court 

LI 


266 


THE  COURT  OF 


towards  her  were  so  evidently  treacherous  that  its  open  enmity 
was  less  to  be  dreaded  than  its  feigned  friendship,  Elizabeth  suf- 
fered her  indignation  to  evaporate  in  a  few  severe  speeches, 
restrained  her  subjects  from  carrying  such  aid  to  the  defenders  of 
Rochelle  as  could  be  made  a  ground  of  serious  quarrel,  and  even 
ermitted  a  renewal  of  the  shocking  and  monstrous  overtures  for 
er  marriage  with  the  youngest  son  of  Catherine  de'  Medici  her- 
self. By  this  shameless  woman  various  proposals  were  now  made 
for  bringing  about  a  personal  interview  between  herself  and  Eli- 
zabeth. She  first  named  England  as  the  place  of  meeting,  then 
the  sea  between  Dover  and  Calais,  and  afterwards  the  isle  of 
Jersey  ;  but  from  the  first  plan  she  herself  departed,  and  the 
others  were  rejected  in  anger  by  the  English  council,  who  re- 
marked, with  a  proper  and  laudable  spirit,  that  they  who  had 
ventured  upon  such  propositions  must  imagine  them  strangely 
careless  of  the  personal  safety  of  their  sovereign. 

Charles  IX.  was  particularly  anxious  that  Elizabeth,  as  a 
pledge  of  friendship,  shbuld  consent  to  stand  sponsor  to  his  new 
born  daughter  ;  and  with  this  request,  after  some  difficulties  and 
a  few  declarations  of  horror  at  his  conduct,  she  had  the  baseness 
to  comply.  She  refused  however  to  indulge  that  king  in  his  fur- 
ther desire,  that  she  would  appoint  either  the  earl  of  Leicester, 
or  lord  Burleigh  as  her  proxy  ; — not  choosing  apparently  to  trust 
these  pillars  of  state  and  of  the  protestant  cause  within  his  reach  ; 
and  she  sent  instead  her  cousin  the  earl  of  Worcester,  "a  good 
simple  gentleman,"  as  Leicester  called  him,  and  a  catholic. 

All  this  time  Elizabeth  was  in  her  heart  as  hostile  to  the  court 
of  France  as  the  most  zealous  of  her  protestant  subjects  ;  for  she 
well  knew  that  it  was  and  ever  must  be  essentially  hostile  to  her 
and  her  government ;  and  in  the  midst  of  her  civilities  she  took 
care  to  supply  to  the  Hugonots  such  secret  aids  as  should  enable 
them  still  to  persevere  in  a  formidable  resistance. 

It  is  worth  recording,  on  the  subject  of  these  negotiations  be- 
tween Elizabeth  and  the  royal  family  of  France,  that  Burleigh 
seems  to  have  been  encouraged  to  expect  a  successful  issue  by  a 
calculation  of  the  queen's  nativity,  seen  by  Strype  in  his  own 
hand-writing,  from  which  it  was  foretold  that  she  should  marry 
in  middle  life  a  foreign  prince,  younger  than  herself ;  and  pro- 
bably be  the  mother  of  a  son,  who  should  be  prosperous  in  his 
middle  age.  Catherine  de'  Medici  also,  to  whom  some  female 
fortune-teller  had  predicted  that  all  her  sons  should  be  kings, 
hoped,  after  the  election  of  her  second  son  to  the  throne  ot  Po- 
land, to  find  the  full  accomplishment  of  the  prophecy  in  the 
advancement  of  the  youngest  to  the  matrimonial  crown  of  Eng- 
land. So  serious  was  the  belief  of  that  age  in  the  lying  oracles 
of  judicial  astrology ! 

Among  the  English  travellers  doomed  to  be  eye  witnesses  of 
the  horrors  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  was  the  cele- 
brated Philip  Sidney,  then  a  youth  of  eighteen.  He  was  the  eldest 
son  of  sir  Henry  Sidney,  lord -deputy  of  Ireland,  and  from  this 
excellent  man  and  parent  he  had  received,  amongst  his  earliest 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


267 


and  strongest  impressions,  those  elevated  principles  of  honour, 
veracity,  and  moral  purity  which  regulated  and  adorned  the 
whole  tenour  of  his  after-life.  An  extraordinary  solidity  of  cha- 
racter with  great  vivacity  of  parts  had  distinguished  him  from  a 
child,  and  fortune  conspired  with  genius  to  bring  him  early  be- 
fore the  public  eye. 

He  was  nephew  and  presumptive  heir  to  the  earl  of  Leicester, 
by  whom  he  was  in  a  manner  adopted  ;  and  thus  patronised,  his 
rapid  advancement  was  anticipated  as  a  matter  of  course. 

It  was  the  practice  of  that  day  for  parents  in  higher  life  to 
dispose  of  their  children  in  marriage  at  an  age  now  justly  ac- 
counted immature  ;*  and  no  sooner  nacl  young  Sidney  completed 
his  fourteenth  year  than  arragements  were  made  for  his  union 
with  Anne  Cecil,  daughter  of  the  secretary.  Why  the  connex- 
ion never  took  place  we  do  not  learn :  sir  Henry  Sidney  in  a 
letter  to  Cecil  says,  w  ith  reference  to  this  affair ;  "  I  am  sorry 
that  you  find  coldness  any  w  here  in  proceeding,  where  such  good 
liking  appeared  in  the  beginning ;  but,  for  my  part,  I  was  never 
more  ready  to  perfect  that  affair  than  presently  I  am,"  &c. 
Shortly  after,  the  lady,  unfortunately  for  herself,  became  the 
wife  of  the  earl  of  Oxford  ;  and  Sidney,  still  unfettered  by  matri- 
monial engagements,  obtained  license  to  travel,  and  reached  Paris 
in  May  1572.  Charles  IX.,  in  consideration  no  doubt  of  the  in- 
fluence of  his  uncle  at  the  English  court,  gave  him  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  gentleman  of  his  bed-chamber,  a  fortnight  only  before 
the  massacre.  On  that  night  of  horrors  Sidney  took  shelter  in 
the  house  of  Walsingham,  and  thus  escaped  all  personal  danger; 
but  his  after  conduct  fully  proved  how  indelible  was  the  impres- 
sion left  upon  his  mind  of  the  monstrous  wickedness  of  the 
French  royal  family,  and  the  disgrace  and  misery  which  an  alli- 
ance with  it  must  entail  on  his  queen  and  country. 

He  readily  obeyed  his  uncle's  directions  to  quit  France  with- 
out delay ;  and,  proceeding  to  Frankfort,  there  formed  a  highly 
honourable  and  beneficial  friendship  with  the  virtuous  Hubert 
Languet,  who  opened  to  him  at  once  his  heart  and  his  purse.  The 
remonstrances  of  this  patron,  who  dreaded  to  excess  for  his 
youthful  friend  the  artifices  of  the  papal  court,  deterred  him  from 
extending  his  travels  to  Rome,  an  omission  which  he  afterwards 
deeply  regretted  ;  but  a  leisurely  survey  of  the  nothern  cities  of 
Italy,  during  which  he  became  advantageously  known  to  many 
eminent  characters,  occupied  him  profitably  and  delightfully  till 
his  retnrn  to  his  native  country  in  1575,  after  which  he  will 
again  occur  to  our  notice  as  the  pride  and  wonder  of  the  English 
court. 

*  Thus  we  find  sir  George  Manners,  ancestor  of  the  dukes  of  Rutland,  who  dteti 
in  1513,  bequeathing  to  each  of  his  unmarried  daughters  a  portion  of  three  hundred 
marks  to  be  paid  at  the  time  of  their  marriage,  or  within  four  years  after  if  the  hus- 
band be  not  twenty-one  years  of  age  ;  or  at  such  time  as  the  husband  came  of  age* 

Collin9's  "  Peerage,"  by  sir  E.  Brydges 


26$ 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


1573  to  1577. 


Letters  of  lord  Talbot  to  his  father. — Connexion  of  Leicester  with 
lady  Sheffield. — Anecdote  of  the  queen  and  Mr.  Dyer. — Queen 
suspicious  of  Burleigh. — Countesses  of  Lenox  and  Shrewsbury 
imprisoned. — Queen  refuses  the  sovereignty  of  Holland. — Her 
remarkable  speech  to  the  deputies. — Alchemy. — Notice  of  Dr. 
Dee — of  Frobisher. — Family  of  L^ore. — Burning  of  two  Ana 
baptists. — Entertainment  of  the  queen  at  Kennelworth. — Notice 
of  Walter  earl  of  Essex. — General  favour  towards  his  son  Ro- 
bert.— Letter  of  the  queen  to  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  respecting 
Leicester. 

Great  as  had  been  the  injustice  committed  by  Elizabeth  in 
the  detention  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the 
offence  brought  with  it  its  own  sufficient  punishment,  in  the  fears, 
jealousies  and  disquiets  which  it  entailed  upon  her. 

Where  Mary  was  concerned,  the  most  approved  loyalty,  the 
longest  course  of  faithful  service,  and  the  truest  attachment  to  the 
protestant  cause,  were  insufficient  pledges  to  her  oppressor  of  the 
fidelity  of  her  nobles  or  ministers.  The  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  whom 
she  had  deliberately  selected  from  all  others. to  be  the  keeper 
of  the  captive  queen,  and  whose  vigilance  had  now  for  so  long  a 
period  baffled  all  attemps  for  her  deliverance,  was,  to  the  last,  un- 
able so  to  establish  himself  in  the  confidence  of  his  sovereign  as 
to  be  exempt  from  such  starts  of  suspicion  and  fits  of  displeasure 
as  kept  him  in  a  state  of  continual  apprehension.  Feeling  with 
acuteness  all  the  difficulties  of  his  situation,  this  nobleman  judged 
it  expedient  to  cause  Gilbert  lord  Talbot,  his  eldest  son,  to  re- 
main in  close  attendance  on  the  motions  of  the  queen  ;  charging 
him  to  study  with  unremitting  attention  all  the  intrigues  of  the 
court,  on  which  in  that  day  so  much  depended,  and  to  acquaint 
him  with  them  frequently  and  minutely.  To  this  precaution  of 
the  earl's  we  owe  several  extant  letters  of  lord  Talbot,  which 
throw  considerable  light  on  the  minor  incidents  of  the  time. 

In  May  1573,  this  diligent  news  gatherer  acquaints  his  father, 
that  the  earl  of  Leicester  was  much  with  her  majesty,  that  he 
was  more  than  formerly  solicitous  to  please  her,  and  that  he  was 
as  high  in  favour  as  ever  :  but  that  two  sisters,  lady  Sheffield 
and  lady  Frances  Howard,  were  deeply  in  love  with  him  and  at 
great  variance  with  each  other  ;  that  the  queen  was  on  this  ac- 
count very  angry  with  them,  and  not  well  pleased  with  him,  and 
that  spies  were  set  upon  him.  To  such  open  demonstrations  of 
feminine  jealousy  did  this  great  queen  condescend  to  have  re- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


269 


course  !  Yet  she  remained  all  her  life  in  ignorance  of  the  true 
State  of  this  affair,  which,  in  fact,  is  not  perfectly  cleared  up  at 
the  present  day. 

It  appears  that  a  criminal  intimacy  was  known  to  subsist  be- 
tween  Leicester  and  lady  Sheffield  even  before  the  death  of  her 
lord,  in  consequence  of  which,  this  event,  which  was  sudden,  and 
preceded  it  is  said  by  violent  symptoms,  was  popularly  attribu- 
ted to  the  Italian  arts  of  Leicester.  During  this  year,  lady 
Sheffield  bore  him  a  son,  whose  birth  was  carefully  concealed 
for  fear  of  giving  offence  to  the  queen,  though  many  believed 
that  a  private  marriage  had  taken  place.  Afterwards  he  forsook 
the  mother  of  his  child  to  marry  the  countess  of  Essex,  and  the 
deserted  lady  became  the  w  ife  of  another.  In  the  reign  of  James 
I.,  many  years  after  the  death  of  Leicester,  sir  Robert  Dudley 
his  son,  to  whom  he  had  left  a  great  part  of  his  fortune,  laid 
claim  to  the  family  honours,  bringing  several  witnesses  to  prove 
his  mother's  marriage,  and  among  others  his  mother  herself. 
This  lady  declared  on  oath  that  Leicester,  in  order  to  compel 
her  to  form  that  subsequent  marriage  in  his  life-time  which  must 
deprive  her  of  the  power  of  claiming  him  as  her  husband,  had 
employed  the  most  violent  menaces,  and  had  even  attempted  her 
life  by  a  poisonous  potion  which  had  thrown  her  into  an  illness 
by  which  she  lost  her  hair  and  nails.  After  the  production  of  all 
this  evidence,  the  heirs  of  Leicester  exerted  all  their  interest  to 
stop  proceedings  ; — no  great  argument  of  the  goodness  of  their 
cause  ; — and  sir  Robert  Dudley  died  without  having  been  able 
to  bring  the  matter  to  a  legal  decision.  In  the  next  reign  the 
evidence  formerly  given  was  reviewed,  and  the  title  of  duchess 
Dudley  conferred  on  the  widow  of  sir  Robert,  the  patent  setting 
forth  that  the  marriage  of  the  earl  of  Leicester  with  lady  Shef- 
field had  been  satisfactorily  proved. 

So  close  were  the  contrivances,  so  deep,  as  it  appears,  the  vil- 
lanies  of  this  celebrated  favourite  !  But  his  consummate  art 
was  successful  in  throwing  over  these  and  other  transactions  of 
his  life,  a  veil  of  doubt  and  mystery  which  time  itself  has  proved 
unable  entirely  to  remove. 

Hatton  was  at  this  time  ill,  and  lord  Tulbot  mentions  that  the 
queen  went  daily  to  visit  him,  but  that  a  party  with  which  Lei- 
cester was  thought  to  co-operate,  was  endeavouring  to  bring  for- 
wards  Mr.  Edward  Dyer  to  supplant  him  in  her  majesty's  favour. 
This  gentleman,  it  seems,  had  been  for  two  years  in  disgrace  ; 
and  as  he  had  suffered  during  the  same  period  from  a  bad  state 
of  health,  the  queen  was  made  to  believe  that  the  continuance  of 
her  displeasure  was  the  cause  of  his  malady,  and  that  his  reco- 
very was  without  her  pardon  hopeless.  This  was  taking  her  by 
her  weak  side  ;  she  loved  to  imagine  herself  the  dispenser  of  life 
and  death  to  her  devoted  servants,  and  she  immediately  dis- 
patched to  the  sick  gentleman  a  comfortable  message,  on  receipt 
of  which  he  was  made  whole.  The  letter-writer  observes,  to  the 
honour  of  lord  Burleigh,  that  he  concerned  himself  as  usual  only 


270 


THE  COURT  OF 


in  state  affairs,  and  suffered  all  these  love-matters  and  petty  in- 
trigues to  pass  without  notice  before  his  eyes. 

All  the  caution,  however,  and  all  the  devotedness  of  this  great 
minister  were  insufficient  to  preserve  him,  on  the  following  oc- 
casion, from  the  unworthy  suspicions  of  his  mistress.  The 
queen  of  Scots  had  this  year  with  difficulty  obtained  permission 
to  resort  to  the  baths  of  Buxton  for  the  recovery  of  her  health ; 
and  a  similar  motive  led  thither  at  the  same  time  the  lord-trea- 
surer. Elizabeth  marked  the  coincidence  ;  and  when,  a  year  or 
two  afterwards,  it  occurred  for  the  second  time,  her  displeasure 
broke  forth  :  she  openly  accused  her  minister  of  seeking  occasions 
of  entering  into  intelligence  with  Mary  by  means  of  the  earl  of 
Shrewsbury  and  his  lady,  and  it  was  not  without  difficulty  that 
he  was  able  to  appease  her.  This  striking  fact  is  thus  related  by 
Burleigh  himself  in  a  remarkable  letter  to  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury. 

LORD  BURLEIGH  TO  THE  EARL  OF  SHREWSBURY. 

"  My  very  good  lord, 

"  My  most  hearty  and  due  commendations  done,  I  cannot 
sufficiently  express  in  words  the  inward  hearty  affection  that  I 
conceive  by  your  lordship's  friendly  offer  of  the  marriage  of 
your  youngest  son  ;  and  that  in  such  a  friendly  sort,  by  your  own 
letter,  and,  as  your  lordship  writeth,  the  same  proceeding  of  your- 
self. Now,  my  lord,  as  I  think  myself  much  beholden  to  you  for 
this  your  lordship's  kindness,  and  manifest  argument  of  a  faith- 
ful good  will,  so  must  I  pray  your  lordship  to  accept  mine  an- 
swer, with  assured  opinion  of  my  continuance  in  the  same  to- 
wards your  lordship.  There  are  specially  two  causes  why  I 
do  not  in  plain  terms  consent  by  way  of  conclusion  hereto ;  the 
one,  for  that  my  daughter  is  but  young  in  years  ;  and  upon  some 
reasonable  respects  I  have  determined,  notwithstanding  I  have 
been  very  honourably  offered  matches,  not  to  treat  of  marrying 
of  her,  if  I  may  live  so  long,  until  she  shall  be  above  fifteen  or 
sixteen  ;  and  it  I  were  of  more  likelihood  myself  to  live  longer 
than  I  look  to  do,  she  should  not,  with  my  liking,  be  married  be- 
fore she  were  near  eighteen  or  twenty. 

"  The  second  cause  why  I  defer  to  yield  to  conclusion  witk 
vour  lordship,  is  grounded  upon  such  a  consideration  as,  if  it 
were  not  truly  to  satisfy  your  lordship,  and  to  avoid  a  just  offence 
which  your  lordship  might  conceive  of  my  forbearing,  I  would 
not  by  writing  or  message  utter,  but  only  by  speech  to  your  lord- 
ship's self.  My  lord,  it  is  over  true  and  over  much  against  reason, 
that  upon  my  being  at  Buckstone's  last,  advantage  was  sought 
by  some  that  loved  me  not,  to  confirm  in  her  majesty  a  former 
conceit  which  had  been  laboured  to  be  put  into  her  head,  that  I 
was  of  late  time  become  friendly  to  the  queen  of  Scots,  and  that 
I  had  no  disposition  to  encounter  her  practices ;  and  now,  at  my 
being  at  Buckstones,  her  majesty  did  directly  conceive  that  my 
being  there  was,  by  means  of  your  lordship  and  my  lady,  to  enter 
into  intelligence  with  the  queen  of  Scots ;  and  hereof  at  my  re- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


271 


turn  to  her  majesty's  presence  I  had  very  sharp  reproofs  for  my 
going  to  Buckstones,  with  plain  charging  of  me  for  favouring  the 
que^n  of  Scots,  and  that  in  so  earnest  a  sort  as  I  never  looked  for, 
knowing  my  integrity  to  her  majesty;  but,  specially,  knowing 
how  contrariously  the  queen  of  Scots  conceived  of  me  for  many 
things  past  to  the  olfence  of  the  said  queen  of  Scots.  And  yet, 
true  it  is,  I  never  indeed  gave  just  cause  by  any  private  affection 
of  my  own,  or  for  myself,  to  offend  the  queen  of  Scots  ;  but  what- 
soever I  did  was  for  the  service  of  mine  own  lady  and  queen, 
which  if  it  were  yet  again  to  be  clone  I  would  do.  And  though 
I  know  myself  subject  to  contrary  workings  of  displeasure,  yet  I 
will  not,  for  remedy  of  any  of  them  both,  decline  from  the  duty 
I  owe  to  God  and  my  sovereign  queen ;  for  I  know,  and  do  un- 
derstand, that  I  am  in  this  contrary  sort  maliciously  depraved, 
and  yet  in  secret  sort;  on  the  one  part,  and  that  of  long  time, 
that  I  am  the  most  dangerous  enemy  and  evil  wilier  to  the  queen 
of  Scots  :  on  the  other  side,  that  I  am  also  a  secret  well  wilier  to 
her  and  her  title  ;  and  that  I  have  made  my  party  good  with  her. 
Now,  my  lord  no  man  can  make  both  these  true  together ;  but  it 
sufficeth  for  such  as  like  not  me  in  doing  my  duty  to  deprave 
me,  and  yet  in  such  sort  is  done  in  darkness  as  I  cannot  get 
opportunity  to  convince  them  in  the  light.  In  all  these  cross- 
ings, my  good  lord,  I  appeal  to  God,  who  knoweth,  yea,  I  thank 
him  infinitely,  who  directeth  my  thoughts  to  intend  principally 
the  service  and  honour  of  God,  and,  jointly  with  that,  the  surety 
and  greatness  of  my  sovereign  lady  the  queen's  majesty ;  and  for 
any  other  respect  but  that  may  tend  to  those  two,  I  appeal  to 
God  to  punish  me  if  I  have  any.  As  for  the  queen  of  Scots,  truly 
I  have  no  spot  of  evil  meaning  to  her ;  neither  do  I  mean  to  deal 
with  any  titles  to  the  crown.  If  she  shall  intend  any  evil  to  the 
queen's  majesty  my  sovereign,  for  her  sake  I  must  and  will  mean 
to  impeach  her ;  and  therein  I  maybe  her  unfriend  or  worse. 

"  Well  now,  my  good  lord,  your  lordship  seeth  I  have  made  a 
long  digression  from  my  answer,  but  I  trust  your  lordship  can 
consider  what  moveth  me  thus  to  digress  :  Surely  it  behoveth  me 
not  only  to  live  uprightly,  but  to  avoid  all  probable  arguments 
that  may  be  gathered  to  render  me  suspected  to  her  majesty, 
whom  I  serve  with  all  dutifulness  and  sincerity;  and  therefore 
I  gather  this,  that  if  it  were  understood  that  there  were  a  com- 
munication, or  a  purpose  of  a  marriage  between  your  lordship's 
son  and  my  daughter,  I  am  sure  there  would  be  an  advantage 
sought  to  increase  these  former  suspicions  purpose.  Con- 

sidering the  young  years  of  our  two  children  as  if  the 

matter  were  fully  agreed  betwixt  us,  the  parents,  the  marriage 
could  not  take  effect,  I  think  it  bes't  to  refer  the  motion  in  silence, 
and  yet  so  to  order  it  with  ourselves,  that,  when  time  shall  here- 
after be  more  convenient,  we  may  and  then  also  with  less  cause 
of  vain  suspicion  renew  it.  And,  in  the  mean  time,  I  must,  con- 
fess myself  much  bounden  to  your  lordship  for  your  goodness ; 
wishing  your  lordship's  son  all  the  good  education  that  may  be 
pete  to  teach  him  to  fear  God,  love  your  lordship  his  natural 


272 


THE  COURT  OF 


father,  and  to  know  his  friends :  without  any  curiosity  of  human 
learning,  which,  without  the  fear  of  God,  I  see  doth  much  hurt 
to  all  youth  in  this  time  and  age.  My  lord,  I  pray  you  bear 
with  my  scribbling,  which  I  think  your  lordship  shall  hardly 
read,  and  yet  I  would  not  use  my  man's  hand  in  such  a  matter 
as  this  is.    [From  Hampton  Court,  25th  Dec.  1575.] 

"Your  lordship's  most  assured  at  command 

"  W.  Burleigh."* 

A  similar  caution  to  that  of  lord  Burleigh  was  not  observed 
in  the  disposal  of  her  daughters  by  the  countess  of  Shrewsbury; 
a  woman  remarkable  above  all  her  contemporaries  for  a  violent, 
restless,  and  intriguing  spirit,  and  an  inordinate  thirst  of  money 
and  of  sway.  She  brought  to  effect  in  1574,  a  marriage  between 
Elizabeth  Cavendish  her  daughter  by  a  former  husband,  and 
Charles  Stuart,  brother  of  Darnley  and  next  to  the  king  of  Scots 
in  the  order  of  succession  to  the  crowns  both  of  England  and 
Scotland.  Notwithstanding  the  rooted  enmity  between  Mary 
and  the  house  of  Lenox,  this  union  was  supposed  to  be  the  result 
of  some  private  intrigue  between  lady  Shrewsbury  and  the  cap- 
tive queen ;  and  in  consequence  of  it,  Elizabeth  committed  to 
custody  for  some  time  both  the  mother  of  the  bride  and  the  un- 
fortunate countess  of  Lenox,  doomed  to  expiate  by  such  a  variety 
of  suffe rings,  the  unpardonable  offence,  in  the  eyes  of  Elizabeth, 
of  having  given  heirs  to  the  British  sceptres. 

A  signal  occasion  presented  itself  to  the  queen  in  1575  of  de- 
monstrating to  all  neighbouring  powers,  that  whatever  suspi- 
cions her  close  and  somewhat  crooked  system  of  policy  might 
now  and  then  have  excited,  self-defence  was  in  reality  its  genu- 
ine principle  and  single  object;  and  that  the  clear  and  compre- 
hensive view  which  she  had  taken  of  her  own  true  interests,  join- 
ed to  the  habitual  caution  of  her  character,  would  ever  restrain 
her  from  availing  herself  of  the  most  tempting  opportunities  of 
aggrandisement  at  their  expense. 

The  provinces  of  Holland  and  Zealand,  goaded  into  revolt  by 
the  bigotry  and  barbarity  of  Philip  of  Spain,  had  from  the  first 
experienced  in  the  English  nation,  and  even  in  Elizabeth  herself, 
a  disposition  to  encourage  and  shelter  them ;  and  despairing  of 
being  able  longer  to  maintain  alone  the  unequal  contest  which 
they  had  provoked,  yet  resolute  to  return  no  more  under  the 
tyranny  of  a  detested  master,  they  now  embraced  the  resolution 
of  throwing  themselves  entirely  upon  her  protection,  It  was 
urged  that  Elizabeth, — as  descended  from  Philippa  wife  of  Ed- 
ward III.,  a  daughter  of  that  count  of  Hainalt  and  Holland  from 
one  of  whose  co-heiresses  the  king  of  Spain  derived  the  Flemish 
part  of  his  dominions, — might  claim  somewhat  of  a  hereditary 
title  to  their  allegiance,  and  a  solemn  deputation  was  appointed 
to  offer  to  her  the  sovereignty  of  the  provinces  on  condition  of 
defending  them  from  the  Spaniards. 


*  <£  Illustrations,"  by  Lorlge. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


273 


There  was  much  in  the  proposal  to  flatter  the  pride  and  tempt 
the  ambition  of  a  prince  ;  much  also  to  gratify  that  desire  of  re- 
taliation which  the  encouragement  given  by  Philip  to  the  North- 
mi  rebellion  and  to  certain  movements  in  Ireland,  as  well  as  to 
all  the  machinations  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  may  reasonably  be 
supposed  to  have  excited  in  the  bosom  of  Elizabeth,  Zeal  for 
the  protestant  cause,  had  she  ever  entertained  it  separately  from 
considerations  of  personal  interest  and  safety,  might  have  proved 
a  further  inducement  with  her  to  accept  the  patronage  of  these 
afflicted  provinces  : — tout  not  all  the  motives  which  could  be  urged 
were  of  force  to  divert  her  from  her  settled  plan  of  policy :  and 
after  a  short  interval  of  anxious  hesitation,  she  resolved  to  dismiss 
the  envoys  with  an  absolute  refusal.  The  speech  which  she  ad- 
dressed to  them  on  this  occasion  was  highly  characteristic,  and  in 
one  point  extremely  remarkable. 

She  reprobated,  doubtless  with  great  sincerity,  the  principle, 
that  there  were  cases  in  which  subjects  might  be  justified  in 
throwing  off  allegiance  to  their  lawful  prince;  and  protested 
that,  for  herself,  nothing  could  ever  tempt  her  to  usurp  upon  the 
dominions  either  of  her  good  brother  of  Spain  or  any  other  prince. 
Finally,  she  took  upon  her  to  advert  to  the  religious  scruples 
which  had  produced  the  revolt  of  the  Hollanders,  in  a  tone  of 
levity  which  it  is  difficult  to  understand  her  motive  for  assum- 
ing :  since  it  could  not  fail,  from  her  lips  especially,  to  give  ex- 
treme scandal  to  the  deputies  and  to  all  other  serious  men.  She 
said,  that  it  was  unreasonable  in  the  Dutch  to  have  stirred  up  so 
great  a  commotion  merely  on  account  of  the  celebration  of  mass  ; 
and  that  so  contumacious  a  resistance  to  their  king  could  never 
r,edound  to  their  honour,  since  they  were  not  compelled  to  be- 
lieve in  the  divinity  of  the  mass,  but  only  to  be  spectators  of  its 
performance, — as  at  a  public  spectacle.  "  What  1"  said  she,  "  if 
I  were  to  begin  to  act  some  scene  in  a  dress  like  this,"  (for  she 
was  clad  in  white  like  a  priest,)  "  should  you  regard  it  as  a  crime 
to  behold  it  ?''*  Was  the  queen  here  making  the  apology  of  her 
own  compliances  under  the  reign  of  her  sister,  or  was  she  gene- 
rously furnishing  a  salvo  for  others  ?  In  any  case,  the  sentiment, 
as  coming  from  the  heroine  of  protestantism,  is  extraordinary. 

An  ineffectual  remonstrance,  addressed  by  Elizabeth  to  the 
king  of  Spain,  was  the  only  immediate  result  of  this  attempt  of 
the  Provinces  to  engage  her  in  their  concerns.  She  kept  a 
watchful  eye,  however,  upon  their  great  and  glorious  struggle ; 
and  the  time  at  length  came,  when  she  found  it  expedient  t& 
unite  more  closely  her  interest  with  theirs. 

England  now  enjoyed  profound  tranquillity,  internal  and  ex- 
ternal, and  our  annalists  find  leisure  to  advert  to  various  cir- 
cumstances of  domestic  history.  They  mention  a  corporation 
formed  for  the  transmutation  of  iron  into  copper  by  the  method 
of  one  Medley,  an  alchemist,  of  which  the  learned  but  credulous 
Vir  Thomas  Smith,  secretary  of  state,  was  a  principal  promote r, 

*  Reidani  "  Annal."  Vide  Bayle's  Dictionary,"  art.  Elizabeth 

M  m 


2?  4 


THE  COURT  OF 


and  in  which  both  Leicester  and  Burleigh  embarked  some  capi 
tal.  The  master  of  the  Mint  ventured  to  express  a  doubt  of  the 
success  of  the  experiment,  because  the  adept  had  engaged  that 
the  weight  of  copper  procured  should  exceed  that  of  all  the  sub- 
stances employed  in  its  production  ;  but  nobody  seems  to  have 
felt  the  force  of  this  simple  objection,  and  great  was  the  disap 
pointment  of  all  concerned  when  at  length  the  bubble  burst. 

About  the  same  time  the  famous  Dr.  Dee,  mathematician,  as 
t  rologer,  and  professor  of  the  occult  sciences,  being  pressed  by 
poverty,  supplicated  Burleigh  to  procure  her  majesty's  patronage 
for  his  infallible  method  of  discovering  hidden  treasures.  This  per- 
son, who  stood  at  the  head  of  his  class,  had  been  early  protected 
by  Leicester,  who  employed  him  to  fix  a  lucky  day  for  the  queen's 
coronation.  He  had  since  been  patronised  by  her  majesty,  who 
once  visited  him  at  his  house  at  Mortlake,  took  lessons  of  him 
in  astronomy,  and  occasionally  supplied  him  with  money  to  de- 
fray the  expenses  of  his  experiments.  She  likewise  presented 
him  to  some  ecclesiastical  benefices  ;  but  he  often  complained  of 
the  delay  or  non-performance  of  her  promises  of  pensions  and 
preferment.  On  one  occasion  he  was  sent  to  the  continent,  os- 
tensibly for  the  purpose  of  consulting  physicians  and  philoso 
phers  on  the  state  of  her  majesty's  health ;  but  probably  not 
without  some  secret  political  commission.  After  a  variety  of 
wild  adventures  in  different  countries  of  Europe,  in  which  he 
and  his  associate  Kelly  discovered  still  more  knavery  than  ere 
dulity  in  the  exercise  of  their  various  false  sciences  and  falla- 
cious arts,  Dee  was  invited  home  by  her  majesty  in  1589,  and 
was  afterwards  presented  by  her  with  the  wardenship  of  Man 
chester  college.  But  he  was  hated,  and  sometimes  insulted  by 
the  people  as  a  conjurer;  quarrelled  with  the  fellows  of  his  col- 
lege, quitted  Manchester  in  disgust,  and  failing  to  obtain  the 
countenance  of  king  James,  died  at  length  in  poverty  and  ne 
gleet; — the  ordinary  fate  of  his  class  of  projectors.  Elizabeth 
performed  a  more  laudable  part  in  lending  her  support  to  the 
enterprise  of  that  able  and  spirited  navigator  Martin  Frobisher, 
who  had  long  been  soliciting  in  vain  among  the  merchants  the 
means  of  attempting  a  northwest  passage  to  the  Indies,  and 
was  finally  supplied  by  the  queen  with  two  small  vessels.  With 
these  he  set  sail  in  June  1576,  and  though  unsuccessful  in  the 
prime  object  of  his  voyage,  extended  considerably  the  previous 
acquaintance  of  navigators  with  the  coasts  of  Greenland,  and  be 
came  the  discoverer  of  the  straits  which  still  bear  his  name. 

A  sect  called  "  The  family  of  Love,"  had  lately  sprung  up  in 
England.  Its  doctrines,  notwithstanding  the  frightful  reports 
raised  of  them,  were  probably  dangerous  neither  to  the  establish 
ed  church,  with  the  rites  of  which  the  brethren  willingly  com 
plied,  nor  yet  to  the  state  ;  and  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they 
were  in  any  respect  incompatible  with  private  morals  ;  but  no 
innovations  in  religion  were  regarded  as  tolerable  or  venial  na- 
iler the  rigid  administration  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  the  leaders  of  the 
new  heresy  were  taken  into  custody,  and  compelled  to  recant. 
Some  anabaptists  were  apprehended  about  the  same  time,  who 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 

lekuowledged  their  error  at  Paul's  Cross,  bearing  feggots, — t lie 
tremendous  symbol  of  the  fate  from  which  their  recantation  had 
rescued  (hem.  Two  of  these  unhappy  men,  however,  repented 
of  the  disingenuous  act  into  which  human  frailty  hail  betrayed 
them  ;  anil  returning  to  the  open  profession  of  their  opinions, 
were  burned  in  Smithfield,  to  the  eternal  opprobrium  of  protest 
ant  principles  anil  the  deep  disgrace  of  the  governess  and  insti- 
uitrcss  of  the  Anglican  Church. 

The  observation  of  lord  Talbot,  that  the  earl  of  Leicester 
showed  himself  more  than  ever  solicitous  to  improve  the  favour 
of  his  sovereign,  received  confirmation  from  the  unparalleled 
magnificence  of  the  reception  which  he  provided  for  her  when, 
during  her  progress  in  the  summer  of  1575,  she  honoured  him 
with  a  visit  in  Warwickshire. 

The  "  princely  pleasures  of  Kennel  worth,"  were  famed  in  their 
day  as  the  quintessence  of  all  courtly  delight,  and  very  long  and 
very  pompous  descriptions  of  these  festive  devices  have  come 
down  to  our  times.  They  were  conducted  on  a  scale  of  gran- 
deur and  expense  which  may  still  surprise  ;  but  taste  as  yet  was 
in  its  infancy,  and  the  whole  was  characterised  by  the  unmerci- 
ful tediousness,  the  ludicrous  incongruities,  and  the  operose  pe- 
dantry of  a  semi -barbarous  age. 

A  temporary  bridge,  70  feet  in  length,  was  thrown  across  a 
valley  to  the  great  gate  of  the  castle,  and  its  posts  were  hung 
with  the  offerings  of  seven  of  the  Grecian  deities  to  her  majesty, 
displaying  in  grotesque  assemblage,  cages  of  various  large  birds, 
fruits,  corn,  fishes,  grapes,  and  wine  in  silver  vessels,  musical  in- 
struments of  many  kinds,  and  weapons  and  armour  hung  trophy - 
wise  on  two  ragged  staves.  A  poet  standing  at  the  end  of  the 
bridge  explained  in  Latin  verse  the  meaning  of  all.  The  Lady 
of  the  Lake,  invisible  since  the  disappearance  of  the  renowned 
prince  Arthur,  approached  on  a  floating  island  along  the  moat  to 
recite  adulatory  verses.  Arion,  being  summoned  for  the  like 
purpose,  appeared  on  a  dolphin  four-and-twenty  feet  long,  which 
carried  in  its  belly  a  whole  orchestre.  A  Sibyl,  a  "  Salvage 
man"  and  an  Echo  posted  in  the  park,  all  harangued  in  the  same 
strain.  Music  and  dancing  enlivened  the  Sunday  evening. 
Splendid  fireworks  were  displayed  both  on  land  and  water  : — a 
play  was  performed  ;  an  Italian  tumbler  exhibited  his  feats  ; — 
thirteen  bears  were  baited  ; — there  were  three  stag  hunts,  and  a 
representation  of  a  country  bridal,  followed  by  running  at  the 
quintin  :  finally,  the  men  of  Coventry  exhibited,  by  express  per- 
mission, their  annual  mock  fight  in  commemoration  of  a  signal 
defeat  of  the  Danes. 

Nineteen  days  did  the  earl  of  Leicester .  sustain  the  over- 
whelming honour  of  this  royal  visit; — a  demonstration  of  her 
majesty's  satisfaction  in  her  entertainment  quite  unexampled, 
but  which  probably  awakened  less  envy  than  any  other  token  of 
her  peculiar  grace  by  which  she  might  have  been  pleased  to  dis- 
tinguish her  favourite. 

No  domestic  incident  had  for  a  long  time  excited  so  strong  a 
sensation  as  the  death  of  Walter  Devereux,  earl  of  Essex,  which 


£76 


THE  COURT  OF 


took  place  at  Dublin  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1576.  This  noble 
man  is  celebrated  for  his  talents,  his  virtues,  his  unfortunate  and 
untimely  death,  and  also  as  the  father  of  a  son  still  more  distin- 
guished, and  destined  to  a  fate  yet  more  disastrous.  He  was  of  illus- 
trious descent,  deriving  apart  of  his  hereditary  honours  from  the 
lords  Ferrers  of  Chartley,  and  the  rest  from  the  noble  family  of 
Bourchier,  through  a  daughter  of  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  young- 
est son  of  Edward  III.  In  his  nineteenth  year  he  succeeded  his 
grandfather  as  viscount  Hereford,  and  coming  to  court  attracted 
the  merited  commendations  of  her  majesty  by  his  learning,  his 
abilities,  and  his  ingenuous  modesty. 

During  a  short  period,  the  viscount  was  joined  in  commission 
with  the  earls  of  Huntingdon  and  Shrewsbury  for  the  safe  keep- 
ing of  the  queen  of  Scots.  On  the  breaking  out  of  the  northern 
rebellion,  he  joined  the  royal  army  with  all  the  forces  he  could 
raise  ;  and  in  reward  of  this  forwardness  in  her  service  her  ma- 
jesty conferred  on  him  the  garter,  and  subsequently  invested 
him,  after  the  most  solemn  and  honourable  form  of  creation,  with 
the  dignity  of  earl  of  Essex,  long  hereditary  in  the  house  of 
Bourchier. 

By  these  marks  of  favour  the  jealousy  of  Leicester  and  of  other 
courtiers,  was  strongly  excited  ;  but  with  little  cause.  The  spirit 
of  the  earl  had  too  much  of  boldness,  of  enterprise,  of  a  high- 
souled  generosity,  to  permit  him  to  take  root  and  flourish  in  that 
scene  of  treachery  and  intrigue — a  court ;  it  quickly  prompted 
him  to  seek  occupation  at  a  distance,  in  the  attempt  to  subdue 
and  civilize  a  turbulent  Irish  province. 

He  solicited  and  obtained  from  the  queen,  by  a  kind  of  agree- 
ment then  not  unusual,  a  grant  to  himself,  and  the  adventurers 
under  him,  of  half  of  the  district  of  Clandeboy  in  Ulster,  on  con- 
dition of  his  rescuing  and  defending  the  whole  of  it  from  the  re- 
bels, and  defraying  half  the  expenses  of  the  service.  Great 
things  were  expected  from  his  expedition,  on  which  he  embarked 
in  August  1573 :  but  sir  William  Fitzwilliams,  deputy  of  Ire- 
land, viewed  the  arrival  of  the  earl  with  sentiments  which  led 
him  to  oppose  every  possible  obstacle  to  his  success.  Probably, 
too,  Essex  himself  found,  on  trial,  the  task  of  subduing  the  Irishry, 
(as  the  natives  of  the  island  were  then  called,,)  a  more  difficult 
one  than  he  had  anticipated.  Some  brilliant  service,  however, 
amid  many  delays  and  disappointments,  he  performed  in  various 
parts  of  the  country  ;  and  having  returned  to  England  in  1575 
to  lay  all  his  grievances  before  the  queen,  and  face  the  court  fac- 
tion which  injured  him  in  his  absence,  he  was  sent  back  with  the 
title  of  Marshal  of  Ireland,  an  appointment  which  Leicester,  for 
his  own  purposes,  is  said  to  have  been  active  in  procuring  him 

Sir  Henry  Sidney  had  now  succeeded  Fitzwilliams  as  lord- 
deputy  ;  and  from  him  it  does  not  appear  that  Essex  had  the 
same  systematic  opposition  to  encounter:  on  the  contrary,  hav- 
ing been  applied  to  by  . the  queen  for  his  opinion  of  the  expediency 
of  granting  several  requests  of  the  earl  relative  to  this  service,' 
sir  Henry  advised  her  majesty  to  comply  with  most  of  them,  pre- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH 


277 


facing  his  counsel  with  the  following  sentence  :  "  Of  the  earl  I 
must  say,  that  he  is  so  noble  and  worthy  a  personage,  and  so  for- 
ward iti  all  his  actions,  and  so  complete  a  gentleman  wherein  he 
may  either  advance  your  honour  or  service,  as  you  may  take 
comfort  to  have  in  store  so  rare  a  subject,  who  hath  nothing  in 
greater  regard  than  to  show  himself  such  an  one  indeed  as  the 
common  fame  reporteth  him  ;  which  hath  been  no  more,  in  troth, 
than  his  due  deserts  and  painful  travels  in  the  worst  parts  of  this 
miserable  country  have  deserved."* 

Such,  in  fact,  was  the  apparent  cordiality  between  the  deputy 
and  the  marshal,  that  a  proposal  passed  for  the  marriage  of  Phi- 
lip Sidney  to  the  lady  Penelope  Devereaux,  daughter  of  the  earl: 
but  if  this  friendship  were  ever  sincere  on  the  part  of  sir  Henry, 
it  was  at  least  short-lived  ;  for,  writing  a  few  months  after  Es- 
sex's death  to  Leicester  respecting  the  earl  of  Ormond,  whom 
the  favourite  regarded  as  his  enemy,  he  says  ....  "In  fine,  my 
lord,  I  am  ready  to  accord  with  him  ;  but,  my  most  dear  lord  and 
brother,  be  you  upon  your  keeping  for  him  ;  for,  if  Essex  had 
lived,  you  should  have  found  him  as  violent  an  enemy  as  his  heart, 
power,  and  cunning  would  have  served  him  to  have  been  ;  and 
for  that  their  malice,  I  take  God  to  record,  I  could  brook  neither 
of  them  both."t 

Ireland  was,  during  the  whole  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  that  part 
of  her  dominions  which  it  cost  her  most  trouble  to  govern,  and 
with  which  her  system  of  policy  prospered  the  least.  Without 
a  considerable  military  force  it  was  impossible  to  bring  into  sub- 
jection those  parts  of  the  country  which  still  remained  in  a  state 
of  barbarism  under  the  sway  of  native  chieftains,  or  even  to  pre- 
serve in  safety  and  civility  such  districts  as  were  already  re- 
claimed and  brought  within  the  English  pale.  But  the  queen's 
parsimony,  or,  more  truly,  the  narrowness  of  her  income,  caused 
her  perpetually  to  repine  at  the  great  expenses  to  which  she  was 
put  for  this  service,  and  frequently  to  run  the  risk  ot  losing  all 
that  had  been  slowly  gained,  by  a  sudden  withdrawment,  or  long 
delay,  of  the  necessary  supplies.  Her  suspicious  temper  caused 
her  likewise  to  lend  ready  ear  to  the  complaints,  whether  founded 
or  not,  brought  by  the  disaffected  Irish  against  her  officers.  Sir 
Henry  Sidney  himself,  the  deputy  whom  she  most  favoured  and 
trusted,  and  continued  longer  in  office  than  any  other,  supported 
as  he  was  at  court  by  the  potent  influence  of  Leicester,  and  the 
steady  friendship  of  Burleigh,  had  many  causes  offered  him  of 
vexation  and  discontent ;  and  those  who  held  inferior  commands, 
and  were  less  ably  protected  from  the  attacks  of  their  enemies, 
experienced  almost  insupportable  anxieties  from  counteractions, 
difficulties  and  hardships  of  every  kind.  Of  these,  the  unfortu- 
nate earl  of  Essex  had  his  full  share. 

The  hopes  of  improving  his  fortune,  with  which  he  had  entered 
upon  the  service,  were  so  far  from  being  realised,  that  he  found 
himself  sinking  continually  deeper  in  debt.    His  efforts  against 


*  Sidney  Papers,  vol.  i. 


|  Ibid. 


'278 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  rebels  were  by  no  means  uniformly  successful.  His  court 
enemies  contrived  to  divert  most  of  the  succours  designed  him 
by  his  sovereign,  and  the  perplexities  of  his  situation  went  on 
accumulating  instead  of  diminishing  The  bodily  fatigue  which 
he  endured  in  the  prosecution  of  his  designs,  joined  to  the  anguish 
of  a  wounded  spirit,  undermined,  at  length,  the  powers  of  his  con- 
stitution, and,  after  repeated  attacks,  he  was  carried  off  by  a  dys- 
entery in  September,  1576. 

Essex  was  liberal,  affable,  brave  and  eloquent,  and  generally 
beloved  both  in  England  and  Ireland.  The  symptoms  of  his  dis- 
ease, though  such  as  exposure  alone  to  the  pestilential  damps  of 
the  climate  might  well  have  produced,  were  also  susceptible  of 
being  ascribed  to  poison  ;  and  one  of  his  attendants,  a  divine  who 
likewise  professed  medicine,  seeing  him  in  great  pain,  suddenly 
exclaimed,  "  By  the  mass,  my  lord,  you  are  poisoned  !"  The  re- 
port spread  like  wild-fire.  To  common  minds  it  is  a  relief  under 
irremediable  misfortune  to  find  an  object  for  blame  ;  and  accord- 
ingly, though  no  direct  evidence  of  the  fact  was  produced,  it  was 
universally  believed  that  some  villain  had  administered  to  him 
"  an  ill  drink." 

As  Leicester  was  known  to  be  his  enemy,  strongly  suspected 
of  an  intrigue  with  his  wife,  and  believed  capable  of  any  enor- 
mity, the  friends  and  partisans  of  Essex  seem  immediately  to 
have  pointed  at  him  as  the  contriver  of  his  death ;  yet  I  find  no 
contemporary  evidence  of  the  imputation,  except  in  the  conduct 
of  sir  Henry.  Sidney  on  this  occasion,  which  indicates  great  anx- 
iety for  the  reputation  of  his  patron  and  brother-in-law. 

The  lord-deputy  was  unfortunately  absent  from  Dublin  at  the 
time  of  the  earl  of  Essex's  death,  and  before  he  could  institute 
a  regular  examination  into  the  manner  of  it,  a  thousand  false  tales 
had  been  circulated  which  were  greedily  received  by  the  public. 
On  his  return,  however,  he  entered  into  the  investigation  with 
great  zeal  and  diligence : — the  decisive  test  of  an  examination  of 
the  body  was  not  indeed  applied,  for  it  was  one  with  which  that 
age  seems  to  have  been  unacquainted ;  but  many  witnesses  were 
called,  reports  were  traced  to  their  source  and  in  some  instances 
disproved,  and  the  result  of  the  whole  was  transmitted  by  the 
deputy  to  the  privy-council  in  a  letter  which  appears  satisfacto- 
rily to  prove  that  there  was  no  solid  ground  to  ascribe  the  event 
to  any  but  natural  causes.  That  the  deputy  himself  was  con- 
vinced of  the  correctness  of  this  representation  is  seen  from  one 
of  his  private  letters  to  Leicester,  published  long  after  in  the 
*'  Sidney  Papers." 

In  all  probability,  posterity  would  scarcely  have  heard  of  this 
imputation  on  the  character  of  Leicester,  had  not  his  marriage 
with  the  widow  of  Essex  served  as  corroboration  of  the  charge, 
and  given  occasion  to  the  malicious  comments  of  the  author  of 
"  Leicester's  Commonwealth."  This  union,  however,  was  not 
publickly  celebrated  till  two  years  afterwards ;  and  we  have  no 
certain  authority  for  the  fact" of  the  criminal  connexion  of  the 
parties  during  the  life  of  the  earl  of  Essex,  nor  for  the  private 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


279 


marriage  said  to  have  been  huddled  up  with  indecent  precipita- 
tion on  liis  decease. 

Walter  earl  of  Essex  left  Robert  his  son  and  successor,  then 
in  the  tenth  year  of  his  age,  to  the  care  and  protection  of  the 
earl  of  Sussex  and  lord  Burleigh;  but  Mr.  Edward  Waterhouse, 
a  person  of  great  merit  and  abilities,  then  employed  in  Ireland 
and  distinguished  by  the  favour  both  of  lord  Burleigh  and  sir 
Henry  Sidney,  had  the  immediate  management  of  the  fortune 
and  affairs  of  the  minor.  Of  this  friend  Essex  is  related  to  have 
taken  leave  in  his  last  moments  with  many  kisses,  exclaiming, 
"  O  my  Ned,  my  Ned,  farewel  !  thou  art  the  faithfulest  and 
friendliest  gentleman  that  ever  I  knew."  He  proved  the  fidelity 
of  his  attachment  by  attending  the  body  of  the  earl  to  Wales, 
whither  it  was  conveyed  for  interment,  and  it  was  thence  that  he 
immediately  afterwards  addressed  to  sir  Henry  Sidney  a  letter, 
of  which  the  following  is  an  extract. 

"  The  state  of  the  earl  of  Essex,  being  best  known  to  myself, 
doth  require  my  travel  for  a  time  in  his  causes  ;  but  my  burden 
cannot  be  great  when  every  man  putteth  to  his  helping  hand. 
Her  majesty  hath  bestowed  upon  the  young  earl  his  marriage, 
and  all  his  father's  rules  in  Wales,  and  promiseth  the  remission 
of  his  debt.  The  lords  do  generally  favour  and  further  him  ; 
some  for  the  trust  reposed,  some  for  love  to  the  father,  other  for 
affinity  with  the  child,  and  some  for  other  causes.  All  these 
lords  that  wish  well  to  the  children,  and,  I  suppose,  all  the  best 
sort  of  the  English  lords  besides,  do  expect  what  will  become  of 
the  treaty  between  Mr.  Philip  and  my  lady  Penelope. 

"  Truly,  my  lord,  I  must  say  to  your  lordship,  as  I  have  said 
to  my  lord  of  Leicester  and  Mr.  Philip,  the  breaking  off'  of  this 
match,  if  the  default  be  on  your  parts,  will  turn  to  more  dishon- 
our than  can  be  repaired  with  any  other  marriage  in  England. 
And  I  protest  unto  your  lordship,  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  at 
this  day  so  strong  a  man  in  England  of  friends  as  the  little  earl 
of  Essex ;  nor  any  man  more  lamented  than  his  father  since  the 
death  of  king  Edward."* 

Under  such  high  auspices,  and  with  such  a  general  consent  of 
men's  minds  in  his  favour,  did  the  celebrated,  the  rash,  the  la- 
mented Essex  commence  his  brief  and  ill-starred  course  !  The 
match  between  Philip  Sidney  and  lady  Penelope  Devereux  was 
finally  broken  off*,  as  Waterhouse  seems  to  have  apprehended. 
She  married  lord  Rich,  and  afterwards  Charles  Blount  earl  of 
Devonshire,  on  whose  account  she  had  been  divorced  from  her 
first  husband. 

How  little  all  the  dark  suspicions  and  sinister  reports  to  which 
the  death  of  the  earl  of  Essex  had  given  occasion,  were  able  to 
influence  the  mind  of  Elizabeth  against  the  man  of  her  heart, 
may  appear  by  the  tenor  of  an  extraordinary  letter  written  by  her 
in  June  1577  to  the  earl  and  countess  of  Shrewsbury. 

»  {<  Sidney  Papers 


280 


THE  COURT  OF 


"  Our  very  good  cousins  ; 

"  Being  given  to  understand  from  our  cousin  of  Leicester  how 
honourably  he  was  not  only  lately  received  by  you  our  cousin  the 
countess  at  Chatsworth,  and  his  diet  by  you  both  discharged  at 
Buxtons,  but  also  presented  with  a  very  rare  present,  we  should 
do  him  great  wrong,  (holding  him  in  that  place  of  favour  we  do,) 
in  case  we  should  not  let  you  understand  in  how  thankful  sort 
we  accept  the  same  at  both  your  hands,  not  as  done  unto  him  but 
to  our  own  self;  reputing  him  as  another  self;  and  therefore  ye 
may  assure  yourselves  that  we,  taking  upon  us  the  debt,  not  as 
his  but  our  own,  will  take  care  accordingly  to  discharge  the  same 
in  such  honourable  sort  as  so  well  deserving  creditors  as  ye  shall 
never  cause  to  think  ye  have  met  with  an  ungrateful  debtor,"  &c. 

Lord  Talbot,  on  another  occasion,  urged  upon  his  father  the 
policy  of  ingratiating  himself  with  Leicester  by  a  pressing  invi- 
tation to  Chatsworth,  adding  moreover,  that  he  did  not  believe  it 
would  greatly  either  further  or  hinder  his  going  into  that  part  of 
the  country. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

1577  to  1582. 

Relations  of  the  queen  with  France  and  Spain.*— She  sends  suc- 
cours to  the  Dutch — is  entertained  by  Leicester,  and  celebrated  in 
verse  by  P.  Sidney. — Her  visit  to  Norwich.- — Letter  of  Topcliffe. 
— Notice  of  sir  T.  Smith. — Magical  practices  against  the  queen. 
— Duke  Casimir's  visit  to  England. — Duke  of  Anjou  urges 
his  suit  with  the  queen. — Simier's  mission. — Leicester's  mar- 
riage.— Behaviour  of  the  queen. — A  shot  fired  at  her  barge. — 
Her  memorable  speech. — First  visit  of  Anjou  in  England. — Opi- 
nions oj  privy  councillors  on  the  match. — Letter  of  Philip  Sid- 
ney.— Stubbs's  book. — Punishment  inflicted  on  him. — Notice  of 
sir  N.  Bacon. — Drake's  return  from  his  circumnavigation. — 
Jesuit  seminaries. — Arrival  of  a  French  embassy. — A  triumph. 
— Notice  of  Fidk  Greville. — Marriage-treaty  with  Anjou. — His 
second  visit.— His  return  and  death. 

About  the  middle  of  the  year  1576,  Walsingham,  in  a  letter 
to  sir  Henry  Sidney  thus  writes :  "  Here  at  home  we  live  in  se- 
curity as  we  were  wont,  grounding  our  quietness  upon  other 
harms."  The  harms  here  alluded  to, — the  religious  wars  of 
France,  and  the  revolt  of  the  Dutch  provinces  from  Spain, — had 
proved  indeed,  in  more  ways  than  one,  the  safeguard  of  the  peace 


QUERN  ELIZABETH. 


281 


of  England.  They  furnished  so  much  domestic  occupation  to  the 
two  catholic  sovereigns  of  Europe,  most  formidable  by  their 
power,  their  bigotry,  and  their  unprincipled  ambition,  as  effectu- 
ally to  preclude  them  from  uniting  their  forces  to  put  in  execu- 
tion against  Elizabeth  the  papal  sentence  of  deprivation  ;  and  by 
the  opportunity  which  they  afforded  her  of  causing  incalculable 
mischiefs  to  these  princes  through  the  succours  which  she  might 
afford  to  their  rebellious  subjects,  they  long  enabled  her  to  re- 
strain both  Philip  and  Charles  within  the  bounds  of  respect  and 
amity  But  circumstances  were  now  tending  with  increased  ve- 
locity towards  a  rupture  with  Spain,  clearly  become  inevitable ; 
and  in  1577,  the  queen  of  England  saw  herself  compelled  to  take 
steps  in  the  affairs  of  the  Low  Countries  equally  offensive  to  that 
power  and  to  France. 

The  states  of  Holland,  after  the  rejection  of  their  sovereignty 
by  Elizabeth,  cast  their  eyes  around  in  search  of  another  protec- 
tor ;  and  Charles  IX.,  suffering  his  ambition  and  his  rivalry  with 
Philin  II.  to  overpower  all  the  vehemence  of  his  zeal  for  the  ca- 
tholic religion,  showed  himself  eager  to  become  their  patron. 
His  brother,  the  duke  d'Aleneon,  doubtless  with  his  concurrence, 
offered  on  certain  terms  to  bring  a  French  army  for  the  expul- 
sion of  don  John  of  Austria,  governor  of  the  Low  Countries  ;  and 
this  proposal  he  urged  with  so  much  importunity,  that  the  Hoi- 
landers,  notwithstanding  their  utter  antipathy  to  the  royal  fami- 
ly of  France,  seemed  likely  to  accede  to  it,  as  the  lightest  of  that 
variety  of  evils  of  which  their  present  situation  offered  them  the 
choice.  But  Elizabeth  could  not  view  with  indifference  the  pro- 
gress of  a  negociation  which  might  eventually  procure  to  France 
the  annexation  of  these  important  provinces ;  and  she  encour- 
aged the  states  to  refuse  the  offers  of  Alencon  by  immediately 
transmitting  for  their  service  liberal  supplies  of  arms  and  money 
to  duke  Casimir,  son  of  the  Elector  Palatine,  then  at  the  head 
of  a  large  body  of  German  protestants  in  the  Low  Countries. 

At  the  same  time  she  endeavoured  to  repress  the  catholics  in 
her  own  dominions  by  a  stricter  enforcement  of  the  penal  laws, 
and  two  or  three  persons  in  this  year  suffered  capitally  for  their 
denial  of  the  queen's  supremacy.* 

These  steps  on  the  part  of  Elizabeth  threatened  to  disconcert 
entirely  the  plans  of  the  French  court ;  but  it  still  seemed  prac- 
ticable, to  the  king  and  to  his  brother,  to  produce  a  change  in  her 
measures  ;  and  two  or  three  successive  embassies  arrived  in  Lon- 

*  Dr.  Whilgift,  then  bishop  of  Worcester,  and  vice  president  of  the  marches  of 
Wales  under  sir  Henry  Sidney,  peculiarly  distinguished  himself  by  bis  activity  in 
detecting  secret  meetings  of  catholics  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  mMssand  practising 
other  rites  of  their  reiigion.  The  privy-council,  in  reward  of  his  zeal,  promised  to 
direct  to  him  and  to  some  of  the  Welsh  bishops  a  special  commission  tor  (be  trial  of 
these  delinquents.  They  further  instructed  him,  in  the  case  of  one  Moriee  who  bad 
declined  answering  directly  to  certain  interrogatoi  i^s  tending  to  criminate  himself  in 
ihese  matters,  that  if  he  remained  obstinate,  and  »he  commissioners  saw  cause,  they 
might,  at.  their  discretion,  cause  some  kind  of  tortnre  to  be  used  upon  bun.  The 
same  means  he  was  also  desired  to  take  with  others;  in  order  to  come  to  a  full 
knowledge  of  all  reconcilements  to  the  church  of  Rome,  and  other  practices  of  the 
papists  in  these  parts.    See  Strype's  "  Whitgift,"  p.  83. 

Nb 


THE  COURT  OF 


don  during  the  spring  and  summer  of  1578,  to  renew  with  fresfr 
earnestness  the  proposals  of  marriage  on  the  part  of  the  duke 
d'Aleneon.  The  earl  of  Sussex  and  his  party  favoured  this 
match,  Leicester  and  all  the  zealous  protestants  in  the  court  and 
the  nation  opposed  it.  The  queen  "  sat  arbitress,"  and  perhaps 
prolonged  her  deliberations  on  the  question,  for  the  pleasure  of 
receiving  homage  more  than  Usually  assiduous  from  both  factions. 

The  favourite,  anxious  to  secure  his  ascendency  by  fresh  ef- 
forts of  gallantry  and  instances  ot  devotedness,  entreated  to  be 
indulged  in  the  privilege  of  entertaining  her  majesty  for  several 
days  at  his  seat  of  Wan  stead -house ;  a  recent  and  expensive 
purchase,  which  he  had  been  occupied  in  adorning  with  a  magnifi- 
cence suited  to  the  ostentatious  prodigality  of  his  disposition. 

It  was  for  the  entertainment  of  her  majesty  on  this  occasion 
that  Philip  Sidney  condescended  to  task  a  genius  worthy  of  bet- 
ter things  with  the  composition  of  a  mask  in  celebration  of  her 
surpassing  beauties  and  royal  virtues,  entitled  "The  Lady  of 
May.''  In  defence  of  this  public  act  of  adulation,  the  young  poet 
had  probably  the  particular  request  of  his  uncle  and  patron  to 
plead,  as  well  as  the  common  practice  of  the  age;  but  it  must 
still  be  mortifying  under  any  circumstances,  to  record  the  abase- 
ment of  such  a  spirit  to  a  level  with  the  vulgar  herd  of  Elizabeth'* 
flatterers. 

Unsatiated  with  festivities  and  homage,  the  queen  continued 
her  progress  from  Wanstead  through  the  counties  of  Essex,  Suf- 
folk, and  Norfolk,  receiving  the  attendance  of  numerous  troops 
of  gentry,  and  making  visits  in  her  way  to  all  who  felt  them- 
selves entitled,  or  called,  to  solicit  with  due  humility  the  costly 
honour  of  entertaining  her.  Her  train  was  numerous  and  bril- 
liant, and  the  French  ambassadors  constantly  attended  her  mo- 
tions.   About  the  middle  of  August  she  arrived  at  Norwich. 

This  ancient  city,  then  one  of  the  most  considerable  in  the 
kingdom,  yielded  to  none  in  a  zealous  attachment  to  protestant 
principles  and  to  the  queen's  person  ;  and  as  its  remote  situation 
had  rendered  the  arrival  of  a  royal  visitant  within  its  walls  an 
extremely  rare  occurrence,  the  magistrates  resolved  to  spare  no- 
thing which  could  contribute  to  the  splendour  of  her  reception 

At  the  furthest  limits  of  the  city  she  was  met  by  the  mayor, 
who  addressed  her  in  a  long  and  very  abject  Latin  oration,  in 
which  he  was  not  ashamed  to  pronounce  that  the  city  enjoyed  its 
charters  and  privileges  "  by  her  only  clemency."  At  the  con- 
clusion he  produced  a  large  silver  cup  filled  with  gold  pieces, 
sa}ring,  "  Sunt  hie  centum  librae  puri  auri:"  Welcome  sounds, 
which  failed  not  to  reach  the  ear  of  her  gracious  majesty,  who, 
lifting  up  the  cover  with  alacrity,  said  audibly  to  the  footman  to 
whose  care  it  was  delivered,  "  Look  to  it,  there  is  a  hundred 
pound."  Pageants  were  set  up  in  the  principal  streets,  of  which 
one  had  at  least  the  ;.;erit  of  appropriateness,  since  it  accurately 
represented  the  various  processes  employed  in  those  woollen 
manufactures  for  which  Norwich  was  already  famous. 

Two  days  after  her  majesty's  arrival,  Mercury,  in  a  blue  satin 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


283 


doublet  lined  with  cloth  of  gold,  with  a  hat  of  the  same  garnished 
with  wings,  and  wings  at  his  feet,  appeared  under  her  chamber 
window  in  an  extraordinarily  fine  painted  coach,  and  invited  her 
to  go  abroad  and  see  more  shows  ;  and  a  kind  of  mask,  in  which 
Venus  and  Cupid  with  Wantonness  and  Riot  were  discomfited 
by  the  Goddess  of  Chastity  and  her  attendants,  was  performed 
in  the  open  air.  A  troop  of  nymphs  and  fairies  lay  in  ambush  for 
her  return  from  dining  with  the  earl  of  Surry  ;  and  in  the  midst 
of  these  Heathenish  exhibitions,  the  minister  of  the  Dutch  church 
watched  his  opportonity  to  otter  to  her  the  grateful  homage  of 
his  Mock.  To  these  deserving  strangers,  protestant  refugees 
from  Spanish  oppression,  the  policy  of  Elizabeth,  in  this  instance 
equally  generous  and  discerning,  had  granted  every  privilege 
capable  of  inducing  them  to  make  her  kingdom  their  permanent 
abode.  At  Norwich,  where  the  greater  number  had  settled  a 
church  was  given  them  for  the  performance  of  public  worship  in 
their  own  tongue,  and  according  to  the  form  which  they  prefer- 
red ;  and  encouragement  was  held  out  to  them  to  establish  here 
several  branches  of  manufacture  which  they  had  previously  car- 
ried on  to  great  advantage  at  home.  This  accession  of  skill  and 
industry  soon  raised  the  woollen  fabrics  of  England  to  a  pitch 
of  excellence  unknown  in  former  ages,  and  repaid  writh  usury  to 
the  country  this  exercise  of  public  hospitality. 

It  appears  that  the  inventing  of  masks,  pageants,  and  devices 
for  the  recreation  of  the  queen  on  her  progresses,  had  become  a 
distinct  profession.  George  Ferrers,  formerly  commemorated  as 
master  of  the  pastimes  to  Edward  VI.,  one  Goldingham,  and 
Churchyard,  author  of  "  the  Worthiness  of  Wales,"  of  some 
legends  in  the  "  Mirror  for  Magistrates,"  and  of  a  prodigious 
quantity  of  verse  on  various  subjects,  were  the  most  celebrated 
proficients  in  this  branch  ;  all  three  are  handed  down  to  posterity 
as  contributors  to  "  the  princely  pleasures  of  Kennelworth,"  and 
the  two  latter  as  managers  of  the  Norwich  entertainments.  They 
vied  with  each  other  in  the  gorgeousness,  the  pedantry  and  the 
surprisingness  of  their  devices;  but  the  palm  was  surely  due  to 
him  of  the  number,  who  had  the  glory  of  contriving  a  battle  be- 
tween certain  allegorical  personages,  in  the  midst  of  which, 
"  legs  and  arms  of  men,  well  and  lively  wrought,  were  to  be  let 
fall  in  numbers  on  the  ground  as  bloody  as  might  be."  The  com- 
bat was  to  be  exhibited  in  the  open  air:  but  the  skies  were  unpro- 
pitious,  and  a  violent  shower  of  rain  unfortunately  deprived  her 
majesty  of  the  satisfaction  of  witnessing  the  effect  of  so  extraor- 
dinary and  elegant  a  device. 

Richard  Topcliffe,  a  Lincolnshire  gentleman  employed  by 
government  to  collect  informations  against  the  papists,  and  so 
much  distinguished  in  the  employment,  that  Topciiffizare  became 
the  cant  term  of  the  day  fot  hunting  a  recusant,  was  at  this  time 
a  follower  of  the  court ;  and  a  letter  addressed  by  him  to  the 
earl  of  Shrewsbury  contains  some  particulars  of  this  progress 
worth  preserving  "I  did  never  see  her  majesty  better 


284 


THE  COURT  OF 


received  by  two  coumtes  in  one  journey  than  Suffolk  and  Nor- 
folk now ;  Suffolk  of  gentlemen  and  Norfolk  of  the  meaner  sort, 
with  exceeding  joy  to  themselves  and  well  liking  to  her  majesty. 
Great  entertainment  at  the  master  of  the  Rolls' ;  greater  at  Ken- 
ninghall,  and  exceeding  of  all  sorts  at  Norwich. 

"  The  next  good  news,  (but  in  account  the  highest)  her  majesty 
hath  served  God  with  great  zeal  and  comfortable  examples :  for 
by  her  council  two  notorious  papists,  young  Rookwood  (the  mas- 
ter of  Euston  hall,  where  her  majesty  did  lie  upon  Sunday,  now 
a  fortnight)  and  one  Downes,  a  gentleman,  were  both  committed, 
the  one  to  the  town  prison  at  Norwich,  the  other  to  the  county 
prison  there,  for  obstinate  papistry ;  and  seven  more  gentlemen 
of  worship  were  committed  to  several  houses  in  Norwich  as  pri- 
soners ....  for  badness  of  belief.  This  Rookwood  is  a  pa- 
pist of  kind,  newly  crept  out  of  his  late  wardship.  Her  majesty, 
by  some  means  I  know  not,  was  lodged  at  his  house,  Euston,  far 
unmeet  for  her  highness,  but  fitter  for  the  black  guard  ;  never- 
theless, (the  gentleman  brought  into  her  majesty's  presence  by 
like  device)  her  excellent  majesty  gave  to  Rookwood  ordinary 
thanks  for  his  bad  house,  and  her  fair  hand  to  kiss  ;  after  which 
it  was  braved  at.  But  my  lord  chamberlain,  nobly  and  gravely, 
understanding  that  Rookwood  was  excommunicated  for  papistry, 
called  him  before  him  ;  demanded  of  him  how  he  durst  to  attempt 
her  royal  presence,  he,  unfit  to  accompany  any  Christian  per- 
son ?  Forthwith  said  he  was  fitter  for  a  pair  of  stocks  ;  command- 
ed him  out  of  the  court,  and  yet  to  attend  her  council's  pleasure, 
and  at  Norwich  he  was  committed.  And,  to  decypher  the  gen- 
tlemen to  the  full ;  a  piece  of  plate  being  missed  in  the  court  and 
searched  for  in  his  hay-house,  in  the  hayrick  such  an  image  of 
our  lady  was  there  found,  as  for  greatness,  for  gayness,  and 
workmanship,  I  did  never  see  a  match  ;  and  after  a  sort  of  coun- 
try dances  ended,  in  her  majesty's  sight  the  idol  was  set  behind 
the  people,  who  avoided.  She  rather  seemed  a  beast  raised  upon 
a  sudden  from  hell  by  conjuring,  than  the  picture  for  whom  it 
had  been  so  often  and  so  long  abused.  Her  majesty  command- 
ed it  to  the  fire,  which  in  her  sight  by  the  country  folks  was 
quickly  done,  to  her  content,  and  unspeakable  joy  of  every  one, 
but  some  one  or  two  who  had  sucked  of  the  idol's  poisoned  milk. 

"  Shortly  after,  a  great  sort  of  good  preachers,  who  had  been 
commanded  to  silence  for  a  little  niceness,  were  licensed,  and 
again  commanded  to  preach ;  a  greater  and  more  universal  joy 
to  the  counties,  and  the  most  of  the  court,  than  +*  e  disgrace  of 
the  papists  ;  and  the  gentlemen  of  those  parts,  being  great  and 
hot  protestants  (almost  before  by  policy  discredited  and  dis- 
graced,) were  greatly  countenanced."  The  letter  writer  after- 
wards mentions  in  a  splenetic  style  the  envoy  from  Monsieur, 
one  Baqueville  a  Norman,  "with  four  or  five  of  Monsieur's 
youths,"  who  attended  the  queen  and  were  "  well  entertained 
and  regarded."  After  them,  he  says,  came  M.  Rambouillet  from  ' 
the  French  king,  brother  of  the  cardinal,  who  had  not  long  be- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


285 


fore  written  vilely  against  the  queen,  and  whose  entertainment, 
it  seemed  to  him,  was  not  so  good  as  that  of  the  others.' 

The  queen  was  about  this  time  deprived  by  death  of  an  old 
and  faithful  counsellor,  in  the  person  of  sir  Thomas  Smith,  one 
of  the  principal  secretaries  of  state.  This  eminent  person,  the 
author  of  a  work  "on  the  Commonwealth  of  England,"  still  occa- 
sionally consulted,  and  in  various  ways  a  great  benefactor  to 
letters  in  his  day,  was  one  of  the  few  who  had  passed  at  once 
with  safety  and  credit  through  all  the  perils  and  revolutions  of 
the  three  preceding  reigns.  His  early  proficiency  at  college  ob- 
tained for  Smith  the  patronage  of  Henry  VIII.,  at  whose  expense 
he  was  sent  to  complete  his  studies  in  Italy ;  and  he  took  at 
Padua  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws.  Resuming  on  his  return 
his  residence  at  Cambridge,  he  united  his  efforts  with  those  of 
Cheke  for  reforming  the  pronunciation  of  the  Greek  language. 
Afterwards  he  furnished  an  example  of  attachment  to  his  mother 
tongue,  which  among  classical  scholars  has  found  too  few  imita- 
tors, by  giving  to  the  public  a  work  on  English  orthography  and 
pronunciation ;  objects  as  yet  almost  totally  neglected  by  his 
countrymen,  and  respecting  which,  down  to  a  much  later  period, 
no  approach  to  system  or  uniformity  prevailed,  but  on  the  con- 
trary a  vagueness,  a  rudeness  and  an  ignorance  disgraceful  to  a 
lettered  people. 

Though  educated  in  the  civil  law,  Smith  now  took  deacon's 
orders  and  accepted  a  rectory,  and  the  deanery  of  Carlise.  His 
principles  secretly  began  to  incline  towards  the  reformers,  and 
he  lent  such  protection  as  he  was  able  to  those  who  in  the  latter 
years  of  Henry  VIII.  underwent  persecution  for  the  avowal  of 
similar  sentiments. 

Protector  Somerset  patronised  him  :  under  his  administration 
he  was  knighted  notwithstanding  his  deacon's  orders,  and  be- 
came the  colleague  of  Cecil  as  secretary  of  state.  On  the  acces- 
sion of  Mary  he  was  stripped  of  the  lucrative  offices  which  he 
held,  but  a  small  pension  was  assigned  him  on  condition  of  his 
remaining  in  the  kingdom ;  and  he  contrived  to  pass  away  those 
days  of  horror  in  an  unmolested  obscurity. 

He  was  among  the  first  whom  Mary's  illustrious  successor  re- 
called to  public  usefulness ;  being  summoned  to  take  his  place  at 
her  earliest  privy-council.  In  the  important  measures  of  the 
beginning  of  the  reign  for  the  settlement- of  religion,  he  took  a 
distinguished  part :  afterwards  he  was  employed  with  advantage 
to  his  country  in  several  difficult  embassies  ;  he  was  then  appoint- 
ed assistant  and  finally  successor  to  Burleigh,  in  the  same  high 
post  which  they  had  occupied  together  so  many  years  before, 
under  the  reign  of  Edward,  and  in  this  station  he  died  at  the  age 
of  sixty-three. 

No  statesman  of  the  age  bore  a  higher  character  than  sir  Tho- 
mas Smith  for  rectitude  and  benevolence,  and  nothing  of  the 
wiliness  and  craft  conspicuous  in  most  of  his  coadjutors  is  dis~ 

*  #  Illustrations,"  by  Lodge  vol.  ii.  ]>.  187. 


286 


THE  COURT  OF 


cernible  in  him.  There  was  one  foible  of  his  day,  however,  from 
which  he  was  by  no  means  exempt :  on  certain  points  he  was 
superstitious  beyond  the  ordinary  measure  of  learned  credulity 
in  the  sixteenth  century.  Of  his  faith  in  alchemical  experiments 
a  striking  instance  has  already  occurred  ;  he  was  likewise  a  great 
astrologer,  and  gave  himself  much  concern  in  conjecturing  what 
direful  events  might  be  portended  by  the  appearance  of  a  comet 
which  became  visible  in  the  last  year  of  his  life.  During  a  tem- 
porary retirement  from  court,  he  had  also  distinguished  himself  as  a 
magistrate  by  his  extraordinary  diligence  in  the  prosecution  of  sus- 
pected witches.  But  the  date  of  these  and  similar  delusions  had  not 
yet  expired.  Great  alarms  were  excited  in  the  country  during  the 
year  1577  by  the  prevalence  of  certain  magical  practices,  which 
were  supposed  to  strike  at  the  life  of  her  majesty.  There  were  found 
at  Islington,  concealed  in  the  house  of  a  catholic  priest,  who  was 
a  reputed  sorcerer,  three  waxen  images,  formed  to  represent  the 
queen  and  two  of  her  chief  counsellors  ;  other  dealings  also  of 
professors  of  the  occult  sciences  were  from  time  to  time  disco- 
vered. "  Whether  it  were  the  effect  of  this  magic,"  says  Strype, 
who  wrote  in  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  "  or  pro- 
ceeded from  some  natural  cause,  but  the  queen  was  in  some  part  of 
this  year  under  excessive  anguish  by  pains  of  her  teeth:  Insomuch 
that  she  took  no  rest  for  divers  nights,  and  endured  very  great  tor- 
ment night  and  day."  In  this  extremity,  a  certain  "  outlandish" 
physician  was  consulted,  who  composed  on  the  case,  with  much 
solemnity  of  style,  a  long  Latin  letter,  in  which,  after  observing 
with  due  humility  that  it  was  a  perilous  attempt  in  a  person  of 
his  slender  abilities  to  prescribe  for  a  disease  which  had  caused 
perplexity  and  diversity  of  opinion  among  the  skilful  and  eminent 
physicians  ordinarily  employed  by  her  majesty,  he  ventured  how- 
ever to  suggest  various  applications  as  worthy  of  trial ;  finally 
hinting  at  the  expediency  of  having  recourse  to  extraction,  on 
the  possible  failure  of  all  other  means  to  afford  relief.  How  this 
weighty  matter  terminated  we  are  not  here  informed  j  but  it  is 
upon  record  that  Aylmer  bishop  of  London  once  submitted  to 
have  a  tooth  drawn,  in  order  to  encourage  her  majesty  to  under- 
go that  operation ;  and  as  the  promotion  of  the  learned  prelate 
was  at  this  time  recent,  and  his  gratitude,  it  may  be  presumed, 
still  lively,  we  may  perhaps  be  permitted  to  conjecture  that  it  was 
the  bishop  who  on  this  occasion  performed  the  part  of  exorcist. 

The  efforts  of  duke  Casimir  for  the  defence  of  the  United  Pro- 
vinces had  hitherto  proved  eminently  unfortunate  :  and  in  the  au- 
tumn of  1578,  he  judged  it  necessary  to  come  over  to  England  to 
apologise  in  person  to  Elizabeth  for  the  ill  success  of  his  arms, 
and  to  make  arrangements  for  the  future. 

He  was  very  honourably  received  by  her  majesty,  who  recol- 
lected perhaps  with  some  little  complacency  that  he  had  for- 
merly been  her  suitor.  Justings,  tilts,  and  runnings  at  the  ring 
were  exhibited  for  his  entertainment,  and  he  was  engaged  in 
hunting  parties,  in  which  he  greatly  delighted.  Leicester  load- 
ed him  with  presents ;  the  earl  of  Pembroke  also  complimented 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


287 


him  with  a  valuable  jewel.  The  earl  of  Huntingdon,  a  nobleman 
whose  religious  zeal,  which  had  rendered  him  the  peculiar  patron 
of  the  puritan  divines,  interested  him  also  in  the  cause  of  Hol- 
land, escorted  him  on  his  return  as  far  as  Gravesend  ;  and  sir 
Henry  Sidney  attended  him  to  Dover.  The  queen  willingly  be- 
stowed on  her  princely  guest  the  cheap  distinction  of  the  garter; 
but  her  parting  present  of  two  golden  cups,  worth  three  hundred 
pounds  a  piece,  was  extorted  from  her,  after  much  murmuring 
and  long  reluctance,  by  the  urgency  of  Walsingham,  who  was 
anxious,  with  the  rest  of  his  party,  that  towards  this  champion  of 
the  protestant  cause,  though  unfortunate,  no  mark  of  respect 
should  be  omitted. 

The  Spanish  and  French  ambassadors  repined  at  the  favours 
heaped  on  Casimir ;  but  in  the  mean  time  the  French  faction  was 
not  inactive.  The  earl  of  Sussex,  whose  generally  sound  judg- 
ment seems  to  have  been  warped  in  this  instance  by  his  habitual 
contrariety  to  Leicester,  wrote  in  August  1578,  a  long  letter  to 
the  queen,  in  which,  after  stating  the  arguments  for  and  against 
the  French  match,  he  summed  up  pretty  decidedly  in  its  fa- 
vour. What  was  of  more  avail,  Monsieur  sent  over  to  plead  his 
cause  an  agent  named  Simier,  a  person  of  great  dexterity,  who 
well  knew  how  to  ingratiate  himself  by  a  thousand  amusing  arts; 
by  a  sprightly  style  of  conversation  peculiarly  suited  to  the  taste 
of  the  queen  ;  and  by  that  ingenious  flattery,  the  talent  of  his  na- 
tion, which  is  seldom  entirely  thrown  away  even  upon  the  sternest 
and  most  impenetrable  natures.  Elizabeth  could  not  summon  re- 
solution to  dismiss  abruptly  a  suit  which  was  so  agreeably  urged, 
and  in  February  1579,  lord  Talbot  sends  the  following  informa- 
tion to  his  father  :  "  Her  majesty  continueth  her  very  good  usage 
of  M.  Simier  and  all  his  company,  and  he  hath  conference  with 
her  three  or  four  time  a  week,  and  she  is  the  best  disposed  and 
pleasantest  when  shetalketh  with  him  (as  by  her  gestures  appea- 
reth)  that  is  possible."  He  adds,  "  The  opinion  of  Monsieur's 
coming  still  holdeth,  and  yet  it  is  secretly  bruited  that  he  cannot 
take  up  so  much  money  as  he  would  on  such  a  sudden,  and  there- 
fore will  not  come  so  soon."* 

The  influence  of  Simier  over  the  queen  became  on  a  sudden 
so  potent,  that  Leicester  and  his  party  reported,  and  perhaps  be- 
lieved, that  he  had  employed  philters  and  other  unlawful  means 
to  inspire  her  with  love  for  his  master.  Simier  on  his  side  am- 
ply retaliated  these  hostilities  by  carrying  to  her  majesty  the 
first  tidings  of  the  secret  marriage  of  her  favourite  with  the 
countess  of  Essex; — a  fact  which  none  of  her  courtiers  had  found 
courage  to  communicate  to  her,  though  it  must  have  been  by  this 
time  widely  known,  as  sir  Francis  Knowles,  the  countess's  fa- 
ther, had  insisted,  for  the  sake  of  his  daughter's  reputation,  that 
the  celebration  of  the  nuptials  should  take  place  in  presence  of  a 
considerable  number  of  witnesses. 

The  rage  of  the  queen  on  this  disclosure  transported  her  be- 


*  u  Illustrations,"  &c.  vol,  ii. 


288 


THE  COURT  OF 


yond  all  the  bounds  of  justice,  reason,  and  decorum.  It  has  been 
already  remarked  that  she  was  habitually,  or  systematically,  an 
open  enemy  to  matrimony  in  general ;  and  the  higher  any  per- 
sons stood  in  her  good  graces,  and  the  more  intimate  their  access 
to  her,  the  greater  was  her  resentment  at  detecting  in  them  any 
aspirations  after  this  state;  because  a  kind  of  jealousy  was  in 
these  cases  superadded  to  her  malignity,  and  it  offended  her 
pride  that  those  who  were  honoured  with  her  favour  should  find 
themselves  at  leisure  to  covet  another  kind  of  happiness  of  which 
she  was  not  the  dispenser.  But  that  Leicester,  the  dearest  of 
her  friends,  the  first  of  her  favourites,  after  all  the  devotedness 
to  her  charms  which  he  had  so  long  professed,  and  which  she  had 
requited  by  a  preference  so  marked  and  benefits  so  signal, — that 
he, — her  opinion  unconsulted,  her  sanction  unimplored,  should 
have  formed, — and  with  her  own  near  relation, — this  indissolu- 
ble tie,  and,  having  formed  it,  should  have  attempted  to  conceal 
the  fact  from  her  when  known  to  so  many  others, — appeared  to 
her  the  acme  of  ingratitude,  perfidy,  and  insult.  She  felt  the  in- 
jury  like  a  weak  disappointed  woman,  she  resented  it  like  a 
queen  and  a  Tudor. 

She  instantly  ordered  Leicester  into  confinement  in  a  small 
fort  then  standing  in  Greenwich  park,  and  she  threw  out  the  me- 
nace, nay,  actually  entertained  the  design,  of  sending  him  to  the 
Tower.  But  the  lofty  and  honourable  mind  of  the  earl  of  Sus- 
sex revolted  against  proceedings  so  violent,  so  lawless,  and  so 
disgraceful  in  every  point  of  view  to  his  royal  kinswoman.  He 
plainly  represented  to  her,  that  it  was  contrary  to  all  right  and 
all  decorum  that  any  man  should  be  punished  for  lawful  matri- 
mony, which  was  held  in  honour  by  all ;  and  his  known  hostility 
to  the  favourite  giving  weight  to  his  remonstrance,  the  queen 
curbed  her  anger;  gave  up  all  thoughts  of  the  Tower,  and  soon 
restored  the  earl  to  liberty.  In  no  long  time  afterwards,  he  was 
re-admitted  to  her  presence  ;  and  so  necessary  had  he  made  him- 
self to  her  majesty,  or  so  powerful  in  the  state,  that  she  found  it 
expedient  insensibly  to  restore  him  to  the  same  place  of  trust 
and  intimacy  as  before ;  though  it  is  probable  that  he  never  en- 
tirely regained  her  affections  ;  and  his  countess,  for  whom,  in- 
deed, she  had  never  entertained  any  affection,  remained  the  avow- 
ed object  of  her  utter  antipathy,  even  after  the  death  of  Leices- 
ter, and  in  spite  of  all  the  intercessions  in  her  behalf  with  which 
her  son  Essex,  in  the  meridian  of  his  favour,  never  ceased  to  im- 
portune his  sovereign. 

The  quarrel  of  Leicester  against  Simier  proceeded  to  such  ex- 
tremity after  this  affair,  that  the  latter  believed  his  life  in  danger 
from  his  attempts.  It  was  even  said  that  the  earl  had  actually 
hired  one  of  the  queen's  guard  to  assassinate  the  envoy,  and  that 
the  design  had  only  miscarried  by  chance.  However  this  might 
be,  her  majesty,  on  account  of  the  spirit  of  enmity  displayed  to- 
wards him  by  the  people,  to  whom  the  idea  of  the  French  match 
was  ever  odious,  found  it  necessary,  by  a  proclamation,  to  take 
Simier  under  her  special  protection.    It  was  about  this  time  that 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


the  queen  was  taking  the  air  on  the  Thames,  attended  by  this 
Frenchman,  and  by  several  of  her  courtiers,  a  shot  was  fired  into 
iu  i  barge,  by  which  one  ol  the  rowers  was  severely  wounded. 
Some  supposed  that  it  was  aimed  at  Simier,  others  at  the  queen 
hers  elf  5  but  the  last  opinion  was  immediately  silenced  by  the, 
wise  and  gracious  declaration  of  her  majesty,  "that  she  would 
believe  nothing  of  her  subjects  that  parents  would  not  believe  of 
their  children." 

Alter  due  inquiry,  the  shot  was  found  to  have  been  accidental, 
and  the  person  who  had  been  the  cause  of  the  mischief,  though 
condemned  to  death,  was  pardoned.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  ac- 
count of  the  affair  transmitted  to  us  by  contemporary  writers  % 
but  it  still  remains  a  mystery  how  the  man  came  to  be  capitally 
condemned,  if  innocent,  or  to  be  pardoned,  if  guilty, 

Leicester,  from  all  these  circumstances,  hacTincurred  so  much 
obloquy  at  court,  and  found  himself  so  coldly  treated  by  the  queen 
herself,  that,  in  a  letter  to  Bur  leigh,  he  offered,  or  threatened,  to 
banish  himself;  well  knowing,  perhaps,  that  the  proposal  would 
not  be  accepted  ;  while  the  French  prince,  now  created  duke  of 
Anjou,  adroitly  seized  the  moment  of  the  earl's  disgrace  to  try 
the  effect  of  personal  solicitations  on  the  heart  of  Elizabeth.  He 
arrived  quite  unexpectedly,  and  almost  without  attendants,  at 
the  gate  of  her  palace  at  Greenwich  ;  experienced  a  very  gra- 
cious reception  ;  and  after  several  long  conferences  with  the 
queen  alone,  of  which  the  particulars  never  transpired,  took  his 
leave  and  returned  home,  re -committing  his  cause  to  the  skilful 
management  of  his  own  agent,  and  the  discussion  of  his  brother's 
ambassadors. 

Long  and  frequent  meetings  of  the  privy-council  were  now 
held,  by  command  of  her  majesty,  for  the  discussion  of  the  ques- 
tion of  marriage ;  from  the  minutes  of  which  some  interesting 
details  may  be  recovered. 

The  earl  of  Sussex  was  still,  as  ever,  strongly  in  favour  of  the 
match  ;  and  chiefly,  as  it  appears,  from  an  apprehension  that 
France  and  Spain  might  otherwise  join  to  dethrone  the  queen 
and  set  up  another  in  her  place.  Lord  Hunsdon  was  on  the 
same  side,  as  was  also  the  lord-admiral,  (the  earl  of  Lincoln,) 
but  less  warmly.  Burleigh  laboured  to  find  arguments  in  sup- 
port of  the  measure,  but  evidently  against  his  judgment,  and  to 
please  the  queen.  Leicester  openly  professed  to  have  changed 
his  opinion,  "for  her  majesty  was  to  be  followed."  Sir  Walter 
Mild  may  reasoned  freely  and  forcibly  against  the  measure,  on 
the  ground  of  the  too  advanced  age  of  the  queen,  and  the  reli- 
gion, the  previous  public  conduct  and  the  family  connexions  of. 
Anjou.  Sir  Ralph  Sadler  subscribed  to  most  of  the  objections  of 
Mildmay,  and  brought  forward  additional  ones.  Sir  Henry  Sid-, 
ney  approved  all  these,  and  subjoined,  "  that  the  marriage  could 
not  be  made  good  by  all  the  counsel  between  England  and  Rome^ 
a  mass  might  not  be  suffered  in  the  court ;■■  meaning,  probably, 
that  the  marriage  rite  could  not,  by  any  expedient,  be  accomnw 
dated  to  the  consciences  of  both  parties  and  the  law  of  England 


290 


THE  COURT  OF 


"  On  the  whole,  with  the  single  exception  perhaps  of  the  earl  ol 
Sussex,  those  counsellors  who  pronounced  in  favour  of  the  mar- 
riage in  this  debate,  did  so,  almost  avowedly,  in  compliance  with 
the  wishes  of  the  queen,  whose  inclination  to  the  alliance  had  be 
come  very  evident  since  the  visit  of  her  youthful  suitor ;  while 
such  as  opposed  it  were  moved  by  strong  and  earnest  convic- 
tions of  the  gross  impropriety  and  thorough  unsuitableness  of  the 
match,  with  respect  to  Elizabeth  herself,  and  the  dreadful  evils 
which  it  was  likely  to  entail  on  the  nation.  How  entirely  the 
real  sentiments  of  this  body  were  adverse  to  the  step,  became 
further  evident  when  the  council,  instead  of  immediately  obey 
ing  her  majesty's  command,  that  they  should  come  to  a  formal 
decision  on  the  question  and  acquaint  her  with  the  same,  hesi- 
tated, temporised,  assured  her  of  their  readiness  to  be  entirely 
guided  on  a  matter  so  personal  to  herself,  by  her  feelings  and 
wishes ;  requested  to  be  further  informed  what  these  might  be, 
and  inquired  whether,  under  all  the  circumstances,  she  was  de- 
sirous of  their  coming  to  a  full  determination."  This  message  was 
reported  to  her  majesty  in  the  forenoon,  (October  7th,  1579,) 
i(  and  she  allowed  very  well  of  the  dutiful  offer  of  their  services. 
Nevertheless,  she  uttered  many  speeches,  and  that  not  without 
shedding  of  many  tears,  that  she  should  find  in  her  councillors, 
by  their  long  disputations,  any  disposition  to  make  it  doubtful, 
whether  there  could  be  any  more  surety  for  her  and  her  realm 
than  to  have  her  marry  and  have  a  child  of  her  own  body  to  in- 
herit, and  so  to  continue  the  line  of  king  Henry  VIII. ;  and  she 
said  she  condemned  herself  of  simplicity  in  committing  this  mat- 
ter to  be  argued  by  them,  for  that  she  thought  to  have  rather  had 
an  universal  request  made  to  her  to  proceed  in  this  marriage, 
than  to  have  made  doubt  of  it ;  and  being  much  troubled  here- 
with she  requested"  the  bearers  of  this  message  "  to  forbear  her 
till  the  afternoon." 

On  their  return,  she  repeated  her  former  expressions  of  dis- 
pleasure ;  then  endeavoured,  at  some  length,  to  refute  the  ob- 
jections brought  against  the  match  ;  and  finally,  her  "  great  mis- 
liking"  of  all  opposition,  and  her  earnest  desire  for  the  marriage, 
being  reported  to  her  faithful  council,  they  agreed,  after  long 
consultations,  to  offer  her  their  services  in  furtherance  of  it, 
should  such  really  be  her  pleasure.* 

But  the  country  possessed  some  men  less  obsequious  than 
privy-councillors,  who  could  not  endure  to  stand  by  in  silence 
and  behold  the  great  public  interests  here  at  stake  surrendered 
in  slavish  deference  to  the  fond  fancy  of  a  romantic  woman, 
caught  by  the  image  of  a  passion  which  she  was  no  longer  of  an 
age  to  inspire,  and  which  she  ought  to  have  felt  it  an  indecorum 
to  entertain.  Of  this  number,  to  his  immortal  honour,  was  Phi- 
lip Sidney.  This  young  gentleman  bore  at  the  time  the  courtly 
office  of  cup-bearer  to  the  queen,  and  was  looking  for  further  ad- 
vancement at  her  hands  ;  and  as,  on  a  former  occasion,  he  hatf 

*  "  Burleigh  Papers,"  l>y  Murdlii,  passim. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


391 


not  scrupled  to  administer  some  food  to  her  preposterous  desire 
of  personal  admiration,  Elizabeth,  when  she  applied  to  him  for  his 
opinion  on  her  marriage,  assuredly  did  so  in  the  hope  and  ex- 
pectation of  hearing  from  him  something  more  grateful  to  her 
ears  than  the  language  of  truth  and  wisdom.  But  Sidney  had  be- 
held with  his  own  eyes  the  horrors  of  the  Paris  massacre  ;  he  had 
imbibed,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  a  youthful  and  generous  mind, 
the  principles  of  his  friend  the  excellent  Hubert  Languet,  one  of 
the  ablest  advocates  of  the  protestant  cause;  and  he  had  since, 
on  his  embassy  to  Germany  and  Holland,  enjoyed  the  favour  and 
contemplated  the  illustrious  virtues  of  William  prince  of  Orange 
its  heroic  champion. 

To  this  sacred  cause  the  purposed  marriage  must  prove,  as  he 
well  knew,  deeply  injurious,  and  to  the  reputation  of  his  sove- 
reign fatal: — this  was  enough  to  decide  his  judgment  and  his 
conduct ;  and  magnanimously  disdaining  the  suggestions  of  a 
selfish  and  servile  policy,  he  replied  to  the  demand  of  her  ma- 
jesty by  a  letter  of  dissuasion,  almost  of  remonstrance,  at  once 
the  most  eloquent  and  the  most  courageous  piece  of  that  nature 
which  the  age  can  boast.  Every  important  view  of  the  subject 
is  comprised  in  this  letter,  which  is  long,  but  at  the  same  time  so 
condensed  in  style,  and  so  skilfully  compacted  as  to  matter,  that 
it  well  deserves  to  be  read  entire,  and  must  lose  materially  ei- 
ther by  abridgement  or  omission.  Yet  it  may  be  permitted  to 
detach  from  political  reasonings,  foreign  to  the  nature  and  object 
of  this  work,  a  few  sentences  referring  more  immediately  to  the 
personal  character  of  Anjou,  and  displaying,  in  a  strong  light, 
the  enormous  unfitness  of  the  connexion  ;  and  also  the  animated 
and  affectionate  conclusion  by  which  the  writer  seems  desirous 
to  atone  for  the  enunciation  of  so  many  unwelcome  truths. 

"  These,"  speaking  of  her  majesty's  protestant  subjects  .... 
"  These,  how  will  their  hearts  be  galled,  if  not  aliened,  when 
they  shall  see  you  take  a  husband,  a  Frenchman  and  a  papist,  in 
whom,  (howsoever  fine  wits  may  find  further  dealings  or  painted 
excuses,)  the  very  common  people  well  know  this,  that  he  is  the 
son  of  a  Jezabel  of  our  age ;  that  his  brother  made  oblation  of 
his  own  sister's  marriage,  the  easier  to  make  massacres  of  our 
brethren  in  belief :  That  he  himself,  contrary  to  his  promise  and 
all  gratefulness,  having  his  liberty  and  principal  estate  by  the 
Hugonots'  means,  did  sack  La  Charitc,  and  utterly  spoil  them 
with  fire  and  sword  !  This,  I  say,  even  at  first  sight,  gives 
occasion  to  all  truly  religious  to  abhor  such  a  master,  and  con- 
sequently to  diminish  much  of  the  hopeful  love  they  have  long 
held  to  you." 

"Now  the  agent  party,  which  is  Monsieur.  Whether  he  be 
not  apt  to  work  on  the  disadvantage  of  your  estate,  he  is  to  be 
judged  by  his  will  and  power:  his  will  to  be  as  full  of  light  am- 
bition as  is  possible,  besides  the  French  disposition  and  his  own 
education,  his  inconstant  temper  against  his  brother,  his  thrust- 
ing himself  into  the  Low  Country  matters,  his  sometimes  seek- 
ing the  king  of  Spain's  daughter,  sometimes  your  majesty,  are 


THE  COURT  OF 


evident  testimonies  of  his  being  carried  away  with  every  wind  of 
hope  ;  taught  to  love  greatness  any  way  gotten  ;  and  having  for 
the  motioners  and  ministers  of  the  mind  only  such  young  men 
as  have  showed  they  think  evil  contentment  a  ground  of  any  re- 
bellion ;  who  have  seen  no  commonwealth  but  in  faction,  and 
divers  of  which  have  defiled  their  hands  in  odious  murders. 
With  such  fancies  and  favourites,  what  is  to  be  hoped  for  ?  Or 
that  he  will  contain  hjmself  within  the  limits  of  your  conditions?" 

....  "  Against  contempt,  if  there  be  any,  which  I  will  never 
believe,  let  your  excellent  virtues  of  piety,  justice,  and  liberal- 
ity, daily,  if  it  be  possible,  more  and  more  shine.  Let  such  par- 
ticular actions  be  found  out,  (which  be  easy,],  as  I  think,  to  be 
done,)  by  which  you  may  gratify  all  the  hearts  of  your  people. 
Let  those  in  whom  you  find  trust,  and  to  whom  you  have  com- 
mitted trust,  in  your  weighty  affairs,  be  held  up  in  the  eyes  of 
your  subjects:  Lastly,  doing  as  you  do,  you  shall  be  as  you  be, 
the  example  of  princes,  the  ornament  of  this  age,  and  the  most 
excellent  fruit  of  your  progenitors,  and  the  perfect  mirror  of 
your  posterity." 

Such  had  ever  been  the  devoted  loyalty  of  Philip  Sidney  to- 
wards Elizabeth,  and  so  high  was  the  place  which  he  held  in  her 
esteem,  that  she  appears  to  have  imputed  the  boldness  of  this 
latter  to  no  motives  but  good  ones  ;  and  instead  of  resenting  his 
interference  in  so  delicate  a  matter,  she  is  thought  to  have  been 
deeply  moved  by  his  eloquence,  and  even  to  have  been  influenced 
by  it  in  the  formation  of  her  final  resolve.  But  far  other  success 
attended  the  efforts  of  a  different  character,  who  laboured  with 
equal  zeal,  equal  reason,  and  probably  not  inferior  purity  of  in- 
tention, though  far  less  courtliness  of  address,  to  deter,  rather 
than  dissuade  her  from  the  match,  on  grounds  much  more  offen- 
sive to  her  feelings,  and  by  means  of  what  was  then  accounted  a 
seditious  appeal  to  the  passions  and  prejudices  of  the  nation. 

The  work  alluded  to  was  entitled  "  The  discovery  of  a  gaping 
gulf  wherein  England  is  like  to  be  swallowed  by  another  French 
marriage,  if  the  Lord  forbid  not  the  banns  by  letting  her  see  the 
sin  and  punishment  thereof."  Its  author  was  a  gentleman  named 
Stubbs,  then  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  previously  of  Bene't  College 
Cambridge,  where  we  are  told  that  his  intimacies  had  been  form- 
ed among  the  more  learned  and  ingenious  class  of  students,  and 
where  the  poet  Spenser  had  become  his  friend.  He  was  known 
as  a  zealous  puritan,  and  had  given  his  sister  in  marriage  to  the 
celebrated  Edmund  Cartwright  the  leader  of  the  sect,  \t  is  pro- 
vable that  neither  his  religious  principles  nor  this  connexion 
were  forgotten  by  the  queen  in  her  estimate  of  his  offence.  A 
furious  proclamation  was  issued  against  the  book,  all  the  copies 
<cf  which  were  ordered  to  be  seized  and  burned  ;  and  the  author 
and  publisher,  being  proceeded  against  on  a  severe  statute  of 
Philip  and  Mary,  which  many  lawyers  held  to  be  no  longer  in 
force,  were  found  guilty,  and  condemned  to  the  barbarous  punish.- 
ment  of  amputation  of  the  right  hand. 

T\-h  words  of  Stubbs  on  being  brought  to  the  scaffold  to  un- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


dergo  his  sentence  have  been  preserved,  and  well  merit  transcrip- 
tion. "  What  a  grief  it  is  to  the  body  to  lose  one  of  his  mem- 
bers you  all  know.  I  am  come  hither  to  receive  my  punishment 
according,  to  the  law.  I  am  sorry  for  the  loss  of  my  hand,  and 
more  sorry  to  lose  it  by  judgment;  but  most  of  all  with  her  ma- 
jesty's indignation  and  evil  opinion,  whom  I  have  so  highly  dis- 
pleased. Before  I  was  condemned,  I  might  speak  for  my  inno- 
eency  ;  but  now  my  mouth  is  stopped  by  judgment,  to  the  which 
I  submit  myself,  and  am  content  patiently  to  endure  whatsoever 
it  plcaseth  God,  of  his  secret  providence,  to  lay  upon  me,  and 
take  it  justly  deserved  for  my  sins  ;  and  I  pray  God  it  may 
be  an  example  to  you  all,  that  it  being  so  dangerous  to  offend 
the  laws,  without  an  evil  meaning,  as  breedeth  the  loss  of  a  hand, 
you  may  use  your  hands  holily,  and  pray  to  God  for  the  long  pre- 
servation of  her  majesty  over  you,  whom  God  hath  used  as  an 
instrument  for  a  long  peace  and  many  blessings  over  us  ;  and 
specially  for  his  Gospel,  whereby  she  hath  made  a  way  for  us  to 
rest  and  quietness  to  our  consciences.  For  the  French  I  force 
not ;  but  my  greatest  grief  is,  in  so  many  weeks  and  days  of  im- 
prisonment, her  majesty  hath  not  once  thought  me  worthy  of  her 
mercy,  which  she  hath  often  times  extended  to  divers  persons  in 
greater  offences.  For  my  hand,  I  esteem  it  not  so  much,  for  I 
think  I  could  have  saved  it,  and  might  do  yet;  but  I  will  not  have 
a  guiltless  heart  and  an  infamous  hand.  I  pray  you  all  to  pray 
with  me,  that  God  will  strengthen  me  to  endure  and  abide  the 
pain  that  I  am  to  suffer,  and  grant  me  this  grace,  that  the  loss  of 
my  hand  do  not  withdraw  any  part  of  my  duty  and  affection  to- 
ward her  majesty,  and  because,  when  so  many  veins  of  blood  are 
opened,  it  is  uncertain  how  they  may  be  stayed,  and  what  will  be 
the  event  thereof.".  .  .  .  The  hand  ready  on  the  block  to  be 
stricken  off,  he  said  often  to  the  people  :  "  Pray  for  me  now  my 
calamity  is  at  hand."  And  so,  with  these  words,  it  was  smitten 
off,  whereof  he  sownded."* 

In  this  speech,  tfre  language  of  which  is  so  remarkably  con- 
trasted with  those  abject  submissions  which  fear  extorted  from 
the  high-born  victims  of  the  tyranny  of  Henry  VIII.,  the  atten- 
tive reader  will  discern  somewhat  of  the  same  spirit  which  com- 
bated popery  and  despotism  under  the  Stuarts,  though  tempered 
by  that  loyal  attachment  towards  the  restorer  and  protectress  of 
reformed  religion  which  dwelt  in  the  hearts  of  all  the  protestant 
subjects  of  Elizabeth  without  exception. 

After  the  execution  of  the  more  painful  part  of  his  sentence, 
Stubbs  was  further  punished  by  an  imprisonment  of  several 
months  in  the  Tower  :  but  under  all  these  inflictions,  his  courage 
and  his  cheerfulness  were  supported  by  a  firm  persuasion  of  the 
goodness  of  the  cause  in  which  he  suffered.  He  wrote  many  let- 
ters to  his  friends  with  the  left  hand,  signing  them  Scsevoia ;  a 
surname  which  it  was  his  pleasure  to  adopt  in  memory  of  a  cir- 
cumstance by  which  he  did  not  feel  himself  to  be  the  person  dis 


*  "  Nugce," 


THE  COURT  OF 


honoured.  Such  was  the  opinion  entertained  by  Burleigh  of  the 
theological  learning  of  this  eminent  person  and  the  soundness  of 
his  principles,  that  he  engaged  him  in  1587  to  answer  Cardinal 
Allen's  violent  book  entitled  "  The  English  Justice ;"  a  task 
which  he  is  said  to  have  performed  with  distinguished  ability. 

During  the  whole  of  the  year  1580,  the  important  question  of 
the  queen's  marriage  remained  in  an  undecided  state.  The  court 
of  France  appears  to  have  suffered  the  treaty  to  languish,  and 
Elizabeth,  conscious  no  doubt  that  her  fond  inclination  could  only 
be  gratified  at  the  expense  of  that  popularity  which  it  had  been 
the  leading  object  of  her  policy  to  cherish,  sought  not  to  revive 
it.  Various  circumstances  occurred  to  occupy  public  attention 
during  the  interval. 

Sir  Nicolas  Bacon,  who,  under  the  humbler  title  of  lord  keeper, 
had  exercised  from  the  beginning  of  the  reign  the  office  of  lord 
high  chancellor,  died  generally  regretted  in  1579.  No  one  is 
recorded  to  have  filled  this  important  post  with  superiour  assi- 
duity or  a  greater  reputation  for  uprightness  and  ability  than  sir 
Nicholas,  and  several  well-known  traits  afford  a  highly  pleasing 
image  of  the  general  character  of  his  mind.  Of  this  number  are 
his  motto,  "  Mediocria  firma"  and  his  handsome  reply  to  the 
remark  of  her  majesty  that  his  house  was  too  little  for  him  ; — 
"  No,  madam  ;  but  you  have  made  me  too  big  for  my  house." 
Even  when,  upon  this  royal  hint,  he  erected  his  elegant  mansion 
of  Gorhambury,  he  was  still  careful  not  to  lose  sight  of  that  idea 
of  lettered  privacy  in  which  he  loved  to  indulge ;  and  the  ac- 
complishments of  his  mind  were  reflected  in  the  decorations  of 
his  home.  In  the  gardens,  on  which  his  chief  care  and  cost  were 
bestowed,  arose  a  banqueting  house  consecrated  to  the  seven 
Sciences,  whose  figures  adorned  the  walls,  each  subscribed  with 
a  Latin  distich  and  surrounded  with  portraits  of  her  most  cele- 
brated votaries ;  a  temple  in  which  we  may  imagine  the  youthful 
mind  of  that  illustrious  son  of  his,  who  "  took  all  learning  to  be" 
his  "province,"  receiving  with  delight  its  earliest  inspiration  ! 
In  his  second  wife, — one  of  the  learned  daughters  of  sir  Anthony 
Cook,  a  woman  of  a  keen  and  penetrating  intellect,  and  much 
distinguished  by  her  zeal  for  reformed  religion  in  its  austerer 
forms, — sir  Nicholas  found  a  partner  capable  of  sharing  his  views 
and  appreciating  his  character.  By  her  he  became  the  father  of 
two  sons  ;  that  remarkable  man  Anthony  Bacon,  and  Francis, 
the  light  of  science,  the  interpreter  of  nature  ;  the  admiration  of 
his  own  age,  and  the  wonder  of  succeeding  ones ;  the  splendid 
dawn  of  whose  unrivalled  genius  his  father  was  happy  enough  to 
behold  ;  more  happy  still  in  not  surviving  to  witness  the  calami- 
tous eclipse  which  overshadowed  his  reputation  at  its  highest  noon. 

The  lord  keeper  was  esteemed  the  second  pillar  of  that  state 
of  which  Burleigh  was  the  prime  support.  In  all  public  measures 
of  importance  they  acted  together  ;  and  similar  speculative  opin- 
ions, with  coinciding  views  of  national  policy,  united  these  two 
eminent  statesmen  in  a  brotherhood  dearer  than  that  of  alliance ; 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


295 


but  in  their  motives  of  action,  and  in  the  character  of  their  minds, 
a  diversity  was  observable  which  it  may  be  useful  to  point  out. 

Of  Bitrleigh  it  has  formerly  been  remarked,  that  with  liis  own 
interest  he  considered  also,  and  perhaps  equally,  that  of  his  queen 
and  his  country*  but  the  patriotism  or  Bacon  seems  to  have  risen 
higher  ;  and  his  conformity  with  the  wishes  and  sentiments  of  his 
sovereign  was  less  obsequiously  exact.  In  the  affair  of  lady  Cathe- 
rine Grey 's  title,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  risk  the  favour  of  the  queen 
and  his  own  continuance  in  office,  for  the  sake  of  what  appeared 
to  him  the  cause  of  religion  and  his  country.  On  the  whole, 
however,  moderation  and  prudence  were  the  governing  principles 
of  his  mind  and  actions.  The  intellect  of  Burleigh  was  more  ver- 
satile and  acute,  that  of  Bacon  more  profound  ;  and  their  parts 
in  the  great  drama  of  public  life  were  cast  accordingly :  Bur- 
leigh had  most  of  the  alertness  of  observation,  the  fertility  of  ex- 
pedient, the  rapid  calculation  of  contingencies,  required  in  the 
minister  of  state  ;  Bacon,  of  the  gravity  and  steadfastness  which 
clothe  with  reverence  and  authority  the  counsellor  and  judge. 
"He  was  a  plain  man,"  says  Francis  Bacon  of  his  father,  "direct 
and  constant,  without  all  finesse  and  doubleness,  and  one  that 
was  of  a  mind  that  a  man  in  his  private  proceedings  and  estate, 
and  in  the  proceedings  of  state,  should  rest  upon  the  soundness 
and  strength  of  his  own  courses,  and  not  upon  practice  to  circum- 
vent others." 

After  Elizabeth  had  forgiven  his  interference  respecting  the 
succession,  no  one  was  held  by  her  in  greater  honour  and  esteem 
than  her  lord  keeper ;  she  visited  him  frequently,  conversed  with 
him  familiarly;  took  pleasure  in  the  flashes  of  wit  which  often 
relieved  the  seriousness  of  his  wisdom  ;  and  flattered  with  kind 
condescension  his  parental  feelings  by  the  extraordinary  notice 
which  she  bestowed  on  his  son  Francis,  whose  brightness  and  soli- 
dity of  parts  early  manifested  themselves  to  her  discerning  eye, 
and  caused  her  to  predict  that  her  "  little  lord  keeper"  would 
one  day  prove  an  eminent  man. 

Great  interest  was  excited  by  the  arrival  in  Plymouth  har- 
bour, in  November  1580,  of  the  celebrated  Francis  Drake  from 
his  circumnavigation  of  the  globe.  National  vanity  was  flattered 
by  the  idea  that  this  Englishman  should  have  been  the  first  com- 
mander-in-chief by  whom  this  great  and  novel  enterprise  had  been 
successfully  achieved  ;  and  both  himself  and  his  ship  became  in 
an  eminent  degree  the  objects  of  public  curiosity  and  wonder. 
The  courage,  skill  and  perseverance  of  this  great  navigator  were 
deservedly  extolled  ;  the  wealth  which  he  had  brought  home, 
from  the  plunder  of  the  Spanish  settlements,  awakened  the  cupi- 
dity which  in  that  age  was  a  constant  attendant  on  the  daring 
spirit  of  maritime  adventure,  and  half  the  youth  of  the  country 
were  on  fire  to  embark  in  expeditions  of  pillage  and  discovery." 

But  the  court  was  not  so  easily  induced  to  second  the  ardour 
of  the  nation.  Drake's  captures  from  the  Spaniards  had  been 
made,  under  some  vague  notion  of  reprisals,  whilst  no  open  war 
was  subsisting  between  the  nations ;  and  the  Spanish  ambassa 


:396 


THE  COURT  OF 


dor,  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  without  some  reason,  branded  his 
proceeedings  with  the  reproach  of  piracy,  and  loudly  demanded* 
restitution  of  the  booty.  Elizabeth  wavered  for  some  time  be- 
tween admiration  of  the  valiant  Drake,  mixed  with  a  desire  of 
sharing  in  the  profits  of  his  expedition,  and  a  dread  of  incensing 
the  king  of  Spain  ;  but  she  at  length  decided  on  the  part  most 
acceptable  to  her  people, — that  of  giving  a  public  sanction  to  his 
acts.  During  the  spring  of  1581,  she  accepted  of  a  banquet  on 
board  his  ship  off  Deptford,  conferred  on  him  the  order  of  knight- 
hood, and  received  him  into  favour. 

Much  anxiety  and  alarm  was  about  this  time  occasioned  to  the 
queen  and  her  protestant  subjects  by  the  clandestine  arrival  in 
the  country  of  a  considerable  number  of  catholic  priests,  mostly 
English  by  birth,  but  educated  at  the  seminaries  respectively 
founded  at  Douay,  Rheims,  and  Rome,  by  the  king  of  Spain,  car- 
dinal Lorrain,  and  the  pope,  for  the  express  purpose  of  furnish- 
ing means  for  the  disturbance  of  the  queen's  government.  Monks 
of  the  new  order  of  Jesuits  presided  over  these  establishments, 
who  made  it  their  business  to  inspire  the  pupils  with  the  most 
frightful  excess  of  bigotry  and  fanaticism ;  and  two  of  these 
friars,  fathers  Parsons  and  Campion,  coming  over  to  England  to 
guide  and  regulate  the  efforts  of  their  party,  were  detected  in 
treasonable  practices ;  on  account  of  which  Campion,  with  some 
accomplices,  underwent  capital  punishment,  or,  in  the  language 
of  his  church,  received  the  crown  of  martyrdom. 

In  order  to  check  the  diffusion  among  the  rising  generation  of 
doctrines  so  destructive  of  the  peace  and  good  government  of  the 
country,  a  proclamation  was  issued  in  June  1580,  requiring  that 
all  persons  who  had  any  children,  wards,  or  kinsmen,  in  any  parts 
beyond  seas,  should  within  ten  days  give  in  their  names  to  the 
ordinaries,  and  within  four  months  send  for  them  home  again. 

Circular  letters  were  also  dispatched  by  the  privy  council  ta 
the  bishops,  setting  forth,  that  whereas  her  majesty  found  daily 
inconvenience  to  the  realm  by  the  education  of  numbers  of  young 
gentlemen  and  others  her  subjects  in  parts  beyond  the  seas  :— 
where  for  the  most  part  they  were  "  nourselled  and  nourished  in 
papistry,"  with  such  instructions  as  "made  them  to  mislike  the  go- 
vernment of  their  country  and  thus  tended  to  render  them  undutifui 
subjects;"  &c.  and  intending  to  "take  some  present  order  there- 
in as  well  by  prohibiting  that  any  but  such  as  were  known  to  be 
well  affected  in  religion,  and  would  undertake  for  the  good  edu- 
cation of  their  children,  should  send  them  abroad ;  and  they  not 
without  her  majesty's  special  license  ; — as  also,  by  recalling  such 
as  were  at  present  in  Spain,  France,  or  Italy,  without  such  li- 
cense ; — had  commanded  that  the  bishops  should  call  before 
them,  in  their  respective  dioceses,  certain  parents  or  guardians 
whose  names  were  annexed,  and  bind  them  in  good  sums  of  money 
for  the  recall  of  their  sons  or  wards  within  three  months.*  Man^» 
other  indications  of  a  jealousy  of  the  abode  of  English  youth  "t  . 


♦  Strype's  «  Whitgift." 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


catholic  countries,  which  at  such  a  juncture  will  scarcely  appeal 
unreasonable,  might  be  collected  from  various  sources. 

A  friend  of  Anthony  Bacon's  sends  him  this  warning  to  Bor 
deaux  in  1583  :  "  I  can  no  longer  abstain  from  telli  (g  you  plainly 
that  the  injury  is  great  you  do  to  yourself,  and  your  best  friends, 
in  this  your  voluntary  banishment  (for  so  it  is  already  termed.) 
The  times  are  not  as  heretofore  for  the  best  disposed  travellers  : 
but  in  one  word,  sir,  believe  me,  they  are  not  the  best  thought 
of  where  they  would  be  that  take  any  delight  to  absent  them- 
selves in  foreign  parts,  especially  such  as  are  of  quality,  and 
known  to  have  no  other  cause  than  their  private  contentment ; 
which  also  is  not  allowable,  or  to  be  for  any  long  time,  as  you 
will  shortly  hear  further;  touching  these  limitations.  In  the 
mean  time  I  could  wish  you  looked  well  to  yourself,  and  to  think, 
that  whilst  you  live  there,  perhaps  in  no  great  security,  you  are 
within  the  compass  of  some  sinister  conceits  or  hard  speeches 
here,  if  not  of  that  jealousy  which  is  now  had  even  of  the  best, 
that  in  these  doubtful  days,  wherein  our  country  hath  need  to 
be  furnished  of  the  soundest  members  and  truest  hearts  to  God 
and  prince,  do  yet  take  delight  to  live  in  those  parts  where  our 
utter  ruin  is  threatened  :*  &c." 

"The  old  lord  Burleigh,"  says  a  contemporary,  "if  any  one 
came  to  the  lords  of  the  council  for  a  license  to  travel,  would 
first  examine  him  of  England ;  and  if  he  found  him  ignorant, 
would  bid  him  stay  at  home  and  know  his  own  country  firsf  't 
A  plausible  evasion,  doubtless,  of  requests  with  which  that  cau- 
tious minister  judged  it  inexpedient  to  comply. 

These  machinations  of  the  papists  afforded  a  plea  to  the  puri- 
tans in  the  house  of  commons  for  the  enactment  of  still  severer 
laws  against  this  already  persecuted  sect;  and  Elizabeth  judged 
it  expedient  to  accord  a  ready  assent  to  these  statutes,  for  the 
purpose  of  tranquilising  the  minds  of  her  protestant  subjects 
on  the  score  of  religion,  previously  to  the  renewal  of  negociations 
with  the  court  of  France. 

Simier,  who  still  remained  in  England,  had  been  but  too  suc- 
cessful in  continuing  or  reviving  the  tender  impressions  created 
in  the  heart  of  the  queen  by  the  personal  attentions  of  his  master ; 
and  the  French  king,  finding  leisure  to  turn  his  attention  once 
more  to  this  object,  from  which  he  had  been  apparently  diverted 
by  the  civil  wars  which  had  broken  out  afresh  in  his  country, 
was  encouraged  to  send  in  1581  a  splendid  embassy,  headed  by 
a  prince  of  the  blood,  to  settle  the  terms  of  this  august  alliance, 
of  which  every  one  iypv  expected  to  see  the  completion.  A  mag- 
nificent reception  was  prepared  by  Elizabeth  for  these  noble 
strangers ;  but  she  had  the  weakness  to  choose  to  appear  before 
them  in  the  borrowed  character  of  a  heroine  of  romance,  rather 
than  in  that  of  a  great  princess,  whose  vigorous  yet  cautious  po- 
litics had  rendered  her  for  more  than  twenty  years  the  admiration 
of  all  the  statesmen  of  Europe.    She  caused  to  be  erected  on  the 

*  Birch's  "  Memoirs.'*         \  "  Complete  Gentleman,"  by  H.  Peachaai, 


298 


THE  COURT  OF 


south  side  of  her  palace  of  Whitehall,  a  vast  banqueting-house 
framed  of  timber,  and  covered  with  painted  canvas,/which  was 
decorated  internally  in  a  style  of  the  most  fantastic  gaudiness. 
Pendants  of  fruits  of  various  kinds  (amongst  which  cucumbers 
and  carrots  are  enumerated)  were  hung  from  festoons  of  ivy,  bay, 
rosemary,  and  different  flowers,  the  whole  lavishly  sprinkled  with 
gold  spangles:  the  ceiling  was  painted  like  a  sky,  with  stars, 
9imbeams,  and  clouds,  intermixed  with  scutchions  of  the  royal 
arms  ;  and  a  profusion  of  glass  lustres  illuminated  the  whole.  In 
this  enchanted  palace  the  French  ambassadors  were  entertained 
by  the  maiden  queen  at  several  splendid  banquets,  while  her 
ministers  were  engaged  by  her  command  in  drawing  up  the  mar- 
riage articles.  Meantime  several  of  her  youthful  courtiers, 
anxious  to  complete  the  gay  illusion  in  the  imagination  of  their 
sovereign,  prepared  for  the  exhibition  of  what  was  called  a  tri- 
umph,— of  which  the  following  was  the  plan. 

The  young  earl  of  Arundel,  lord  Windsor,  Philip  Sidney,  and 
Fulke  Greville,  the  four  challengers,  styled  themselves  the  foster 
children  of  Desire,  and  to  that  end  of  the  tilt-yard  where  her 
majesty  was  seated,  their  adulation  gave  the  name  of  the  Castle 
of  Perfect  Beauty.  This  castle  the  queen  was  summoned  to 
surrender  in  a  very  courtly  message  delivered  by  a  boy  dressed 
in  red  and  white,  the  colours  of  Desire.  On  her  refusal,  a  mount 
placed  on  wheels  was  rolled  into  the  tilt-yard,  and  the  four  cava- 
liers rode  in  superbly  armed  and  accoutred,  and  each  at  the 
head  of  a  splendid  troop ;  and  when  they  had  passed  in  military 
order  before  the  queen,  the  boy  who  had  delivered  the  former 
message  thus  again  addressed  her: — 

"  If  the  message  lately  delivered  unto  you  had  been  believed 
and  followed,  0  queen  \  in  whom  the  whole  story  of  virtue  is 
written  with  the  language  of  beauty ;  nothing  should  this  violence 
have  needed  in  your  inviolate  presence.  Your  eyes,  which  till 
now  have  been  wont  to  discern  only  the  bowed  knees  of  kneel- 
ing hearts,  and,  inwardly  turned,  found  always  the  heavenly 
peace  of  a  sweet  mind,  should  not  now  have  their  fair  beams  re- 
flected with  the  shining  of  armour,  should  not  now  be  driven  to 
see  the  fury  of  desire,  nor  the  fiery  force  of  fury.  But  sith  so 
it  is  (alas  that  it  is  so !)  that  in  the  defence  of  obstinate  refusal 
there  never  groweth  victory  but  by  compassion,  they  are  come: 
— what  need  I  say  more  ?  You  see  them,  ready  in  heart  as  you 
know,  and  able  with  hands,  as  they  hope,  not  only  to  assailing  but 
to  prevailing.  Perchance  you  despise  the  smallness  of  number, 
I  say  unto  you,  the  force  of  Desire  goeth  ngkby  fullness  of  com- 
pany. Nay,  rather  view  with  what  irresSible  determination 
themselves  approach,  and  how  not  only  the  heavens  send  their 
invisible  instruments  to  aid  them,  (music  within  the  mount)  but 
also  the  very  earth,  the  dullest  of  all  the  elements,  which  with 
natural  heaviness  still  strives  to  the  sleepy  centre,  yet,  for  ad- 
vancing this  enterprise,  is  content  actively  (as  you  shall  see) 
to  move  itself  upon  itself  to  rise  up  in  height,  that  it  may  the 
better  command  the  high  and  highmincled  fortresses. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


299 


%t(Herc  the  mount  rose  up  in  height.)  Many  words,  when 
deeds  ate  in  the  field,  are  tedious  both  unto  the  speaker  and 
hearer.  You  see  their  forces,  but  know  not  their  fortunes  :  if 
you  be  resolved,  jt  boots  not,  and  threats  dread  not.  I  have  dis- 
charged my  charge,  which  was  even  when  all  things  were  ready 
for  (he  assault,  then  to  offer  parley,  a  thing  not  so  much  used  as 
gracious  in  besiegers.  You  shall  now  be  summoned  to  v. eld, 
which  if  it  be  rejected,  then  look  for  the  affectionate  alarm  to 
be  followed  with  desirous  assault.  The  time  approacheth  for 
their  approaches,  but  no  time  shall  stay  me  from  wishing,  that 
however  this  succeed  the  world  may  long  enjoy  its  chiefest  or- 
nament, which  decks  it  with  hers  slf,  and  herself  with  the  love 
of  goodness." 

The  rolling  mount  was  now  moved  close  to  the  queen,  the 
music  sounded,  and  one  of  the  boys  accompanied  with  cornets 
sung  a  fresh  summons  to  the  fortress. 

When  this  was  ended,  another  boy,  turning  to  the  challengers 
and  their  retinue,  sung  an  alarm,  which  ended,  the  two  cannons 
were  shot  off,  'the  one  with  sweet  powder  and  the  other  with 
swreet  water,  very  odoriferous  and  pleasant,  and  the  noise  of  the 
shooting  was  very  excellent  consent  of  melody  within  the  mount. 
And  after  that,  was  store  of  pretty  scaling-la  ders,  and  the  foot- 
men threw  flowers  and  such  fancies  against  the  wails,  with  all 
such  devices  as  might  seem  fit  shot  for  Desire.  All  which  did 
continue  till  time  the  defendants  came  in.'  These  were  above 
twenty  in  number,  and  each  accompanied  by  his  servants,  pages, 
and  trumpeters.  Speeches  were  delivered  to  the  queen  on  the 
part  of  these  knights,  several  of  whom  appeared  in  some  assumed 
character ;  sir  Thomas  Perrot  and  Anthony  Cook  thought  proper 
to  personate  Adam  and  Eve;  the  latter  having  'hair  hung  all 
down  his  helmet.'  The  messenger  sent  on  the  part  of  Thomas 
Ratcliff  described  his  master  as  a  forlorn  knight,  whom  despair 
of  achieving  the  favour  of  his  peerless  and  sunlike  mistress  had 
driven  out  of  the  haunts  of  men  into  a  cave  of  the  desert,  where 
moss  was  his  couch,  and  moss,  moistened  by  tears,  his  only 
food.  Even  here  however  the  report  of  this  assault  upon  the 
castle  of  Perfect  Beauty  had  reached  his  ears,  and  roused  him 
from  his  slumber  of  despondency ;  and  in  token  of  his  devoted 
loyalty  and  inviolable  fidelity  to  his  divine  lady,  he  sent  his 
shield,  which  he  intreated  her  to  accept  as  the  ensign  of  her 
fame,  and  the  instrument  of  his  glory,  prostrating  himself  at  her 
feet  as  one  ready  toundertake  any  adventures  in  hope  of  her 
gracious  favour,  (■■his  romantic  picture  of  devoted  and  des- 
pairing passion  the  aescription  of  Amadis  de  Gaul  at  the  Poor 
Rock  seems  to  have  been  the  prototype. 

On  the  part  of  the  four  sons  of  sir  Francis  Knolles,  Mercury 
appeared,  and  described  them  as  'legitimate  sons  of  Despair, 
brethren  to  hard  mishap,  suckled  with  sighs,  and  swathed  up  in 
sorrow,  weaned  in  woe,  and  dry-nursed  by  Desire,  long  time 
fostered  with  favourable  countenance,  and  fed  with  sweet  fan- 
cies, but  now  of  late  (alas)  wholly  given  oyer  to  grief  and  dis- 


300 


THE  COURT  OF 


graced  by  disdain.'  &c.  The  speeches  being  ended,  probably  to 
the  relief  of  the  hearers,  the  tilting  commenced,  and  lasted  till 
night.  It  was  resumed  the  next  day  with  some  fresh  circum- 
stances of  magnificence  and  a  few  more  harangi^s :  at  length  the 
challengers  presented  to  the  queen  an  olive  bough  in  token  of 
their  humble  submission,  and  both  parties  were  dismissed  by  her 
with  thanks  and  commendations.* 

By  whom  the  speeches  for  this  triumph  were  composed  does 
not  appear ;  but  their  style  appears  to  correspond  very  exactly 
with  that  of  John  Lilly,  a  dramatic  poet  who  in  this  year  gave 
to  the  public  a  romance  in  two  parts  ;  the  first  entitled  "  Euphues 
the  Anatomy  of  Wit/'  the  second  "  Euphues  and  his  England  :" 
A  work  which  in  despite,  or  rather  perhaps  by  favour,  of  the  new 
and  singular  affectations  with  which  it  was  overrun,  obtained 
extraordinary  popularity,  and  communicated  its  infection  for  a 
time  to  the  style  of  polite  writing  and  fashionable  speech. 

An  author  of  the  present  day,  whose  elegant  taste  and  whose 
profound  acquaintance  with  the  writers  of  this  and  the  following 
reign  entitle  him  to  be  heard  with  deference,  has  favoured  us 
with  his  opinion  of  Euphues  in  these  w*rds.  "  This  production 
is  a  tissue  of  antithesis  and  alliteration,  and  therefore  justly 
entitled  to  the  appellation  of  affected;  but  we  cannot  with  Ber- 
kenhout  consider  it  as  a  most  contemptible  piece  of  nonsense.] 
The  moral  is  uniformly  good ;  the  vices  and  follies  of  the  day 
are  attacked  with  much  force  and  keenness*;  there  is  in  it  much 
display  of  the  manners  of  the  times  ;  and  though  as  a  composition 
it  is  very  meretricious  and  sometimes  absurd  in  point  of  ornament, 
yet  the  construction  of  its  sentences  is  frequently  turned  with 
peculiar  neatness  and  spirit,  though  with  much  monotony  of  ca- 
dence. "So  greatly,"  adds  the  same  writer,  "was  the  style  of 
Euphues  admired  in  the  court  of  Elizabeth,  and,  indeed,  through- 
out the  kingdom,  that  it  became  a  proof  of  refined  manners  to 
adopt  its  phraseology.  Edward  Blount,  who  republished  six  of 
Lilly's  plays  in  1632,  under  the  title  of  Sixe  Court  Comedies, 
declares  that  'Our  nation  are  in  his  debt  for  a  new  English 
which  he  taught  them.'  '  Euphues  and  his  England?  he  adds, 
*  began  first  that  language.  All  our  ladies  were  then  his  scholars ; 
and  that  beauty  in  court  who  could  not  parley  Euphuesme,  was 
as  little  regarded  as  she  which  now  there  speaks  not  French :' 
a  representation  certainly  not  exaggerated ;  for  Ben  Jonson,  de- 
scribing a  fashionable  lady,  makes  her  address  her  gallant  in 
the  following  terms: — '0  master  Brisk,  las  it  is  in  Euphues) 
hard  is  the  choice  when  one  is  compellecflfcther  by  silence  to 
die  with  grief,  or  by  speaking  to  live  withsname :'  upon  which 
Mr.  Whalley  observes,  that  '  the  court  ladies  in  Elizabeth's 
time  had  all  the  phrases  of  Euphues  by  heart.'!" 

Shakespeare  is  believed  to  have  satirised  the  affectations  of 
Lilly,  amongst  other  prevailing  modes  of  pedantry  and  bad 

*  Hoi  in  shed.         f  Berkenhout's  "  Biographia  Literaria,"  p.  377.  note  a. 
?  "Shakspeare  and  his  times:"  &c.  by  Nathan  Drake,  M.  D. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


301 


taste,  under  the  character  of  the  schoolmaster  Holophernes ;  and 
to  Sidney  is  ascribed  by  Drayton  the  merit,  that  he 

 "did  first  reduce 

Our  tongue  from  Lilly's  writing  then  in  use, 
Talking  of  stones,  stars,  plants,  of  fishes,  flies, 
Playing  with  words  and  idle  similies." 

But  in  this  statement  there  is  an  inaccuracy,  if  it  refers  to  the 
better  model  of  style  furnished  by  hiin  in  his  Arcadia,  since  that 
work,  though  not  published  till  after  the  death  of  its  author,  is 
known  to  have  been  composed  previously  to  the  appearance  of 
Euphues.  Possibly  however  the  lines  of  Drayton  may  be  ex- 
plained as  alluding  to  the  critical  precepts  contained  in  Sidney's 
Defence  of  Poetry,  which  was  written  in  1582  or  1583. 

It  may  appear  extraordinary  that  this  accomplished  person, 
after  his  noble  letter  of  remonstrance  against  the  French  mar- 
riage, should  have  consented  to  take  so  conspicuous  a  part  in 
festivities  designed  to  celebrate  the  arrival  of  the  commissioners 
by  whom  its  terms  were  to  be  concluded.  But  the  actions  of 
eve^  man,  it  may  be  pleaded,  belong  to  such  an  age,  or  such  a 
station,  as  well  as  to  such  a  school  of  philosophy,  religious  sect, 
political  party,  or  natural  class  of  character  ;  and  the  spirit  which 
prompted  this  eminent  person  to  aspire  after  all  praise  and  every 
kind  of  glory,  compelled  him,  at  the  court  of  Elizabeth  to  unite, 
with  whatever  incongruity,  the  quaint  personage  of  a  knight 
errant  of  romance  and  a  devotee  of  the  beauties  and  perfections 
of  his  liege  lady,  with  the  manly  attributes  of  an  English  patriot 
and  a  champion  of  reformed  religion. 

Fulke  Greville  furnishes  another  instance  of  a  respectable  cha- 
racter strangely  disguised  by  the  affectations  and  servilities  of  a 
courtier  of  this  "Queen  of  Faery."  He  was  the  cousin,  school- 
fellow, and  inseparable  companion  of  Sidney,  and  so  devoted  to 
him  that,  in  the  inscription  which  he  composed  long  after  for 
his  own  tomb,  he  entitled  himself  "  servant  to  Queen  Elizabeth, 
councillor  to  king  James,  and  friend  to  sir  Philip  Sidney."  Born 
to  a  fortune  so  ample  as  to  render  him  entirely  independent  of 
the  emoluments  of  office  or  the  favours  of  a  sovereign,  and  early 
smitten  with  a  passion  for  the  gentle  muse  which  rendered  him 
nearly  insensible  to  the  enticements  of  ambition,  Greville  was 
yet  contented  to  devote  himself,  as  a  volunteer,  to  that  court- 
life,  the  irksomeiyyis  of  which  has  often  been  treated  as  insup- 
portable by  meAo  have  embraced  it  from  interest  or  from 
necessity. 

A  devotedness  so  signal  was  not  indeed  suffered  to  go  with- 
out its  reward.  Besides  that  it  obtained  for  him  a  lucrative 
place,  Naunton  says  of  Greville,  "  He  had  no  mean  place  in 
queen  Elizabeth's  favour,  neither  did  he  hold  it  for  any  short 
time  or  term ;  for,  if  I  be  not  deceived,  he  had  the  longest  lease, 
the  smoothest  time  without  rubs,  of  any  of  her  favourites."  Lord 
Bacon  also  testifies  that  he  "  had  much  and  private  access  to  her, 


302 


THE  COURT  OF 


which  he  used  honourably  and  did  many  men  good;  yet  he  would 
say  merrily  of  himself,  that  he  was  like  Robin  Goodfellow ;  for 
when  the  maids  spilt  the  milk-pans  or  kept  any  racket,  they 
would  lay  it  upon  Robin :  so  what  tales  the  ladies  about  the 
queen  told  her,  or  other,  bad  offices  they  did,  they  would  put  it 
upon  him."  The  poems  of  Fulke  Greville,  celebrated  and  fash- 
ionable in  his  own  time,  but  now  known  only  to  the  more  curious 
students  of  our  early  literature,  consist  of  two  tragedies  in  inter- 
woven rhyme,  with  choruses  on  the  Greek  model;  a  hundred 
love  sonnets,  in  one  of  which  he  styles  his  mistress  "  Fair-dog:" 
and  "  Treaties"  "  on  Human  Learning,"  "  on  Fame  and  Honour," 
and  "of  Wars."  Of  these  pieces  the  last  three,  as  well  as  the 
tragedies,  contain  many  noble,  free,  and  virtuous  sentiments  ; 
many  fine  and  ingenious  thoughts,  and  some  elegant  lines;  but 
the  harshness  and  pedantry  of  the  style  render  their  perusal  on 
the  whole  more  of  a  fatigue  than  a  pleasure,  and  they  have  gra- 
dually sunk  into  that  neglect  which  constantly  awaits  the  verse 
of  which  it  has  been  the  aim  to  instruct  rather  than  to  delight. 
Among  the  English  patrons  of  Letters,  however,  Fulke  Greville, 
afterwards  lord  Brook,  will  ever  deserve  a  conspicuous  station ; 
and  Speed  and  Camden  have  gratefully  recorded  their  obliga- 
tions both  to  his  liberality  and  to  his  honourable  exertion  of  court 
interest. 

The  articles  of  the  marriage-treaty  were  at  length  concluded 
between  the  commissioners  of  France  and  England,  and  it  was 
stipulated  that  the  nuptials  should  take  place  six  weeks  after 
their  ratification  :  but  Elizabeth,  whose  uncertainties  were  not 
yet  at  an  end,  had  insisted  on  a  separate  article  purporting,  that 
she  should  not  however  be  obliged  to  complete  the  marriage  un- 
til further  matters,  not  specified,  should  have  been  settled  be- 
tween herself  and  the  duke  of  Anjou ;  by  which  stipulation  it 
still  remained  in  her  power  to  render  the  whole  negociation  vain. 

The  moment  that  all  opposition  on  the  part  of  her  privy-coun- 
cil was  over,  and  every  external  obstacle  surmounted,  Elizabeth 
seems  to  have  begun  to  recover  her  sound  discretion,  and  to  see 
in  their  true  magnitude  all  the  objections  to  which  she  had  hither- 
to been  anxious  to  blind  her  own  eyes  and  those  of  others.  She 
sent  Walsingham  to  open  new  negociations  at  Paris,  and  to  try 
whether  the  league  offensive  and  defensive,  stipulated  by  the  late 
articles,  could  not  be  brought  to  effect  before  the  marriage,  which 
she  now  discovered  that  it  was  not  a  convenient  season  to  com- 
plete. The  French  court,  after  some  hesitaJ^i,  had  just  been 
brought  to  agree  to  this  proposal,  when  she  ^Hfned  again  to  go 
on  with  the  marriage ;  but  no  sooner  had  it  iWumed  with  alac- 
rity this  part  of  the  discussion,  than  she  again  declared  for  the 
alliance.  Walsingham,  puzzled  and  vexed  by  such  a  series  of 
capricious  changes,  proceeding  from  motives  in  which  state  ex- 
pediency had  no  share,  remained  uncertain  how  to  act ;  and  at 
length  all  the  politicians  English  and  French,  equally  discon- 
certed, seem  to  have  acquiesced  in  the  conviction  that  this  strange 
strife  must  end  where  it  began,  in  the  bosom  of  Elizabeth  herself. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


303 


while  nothing  was  left  to  them  but  to  await  the  result  in  anxious 
silence.  But  the  duke  of  Anjou,  aware  that  from  a  youthful  lover 
some  unequivocal  symptoms  of  impatience  would  be  required, 
and  that  upon  a  skilful  display  of  this  kind  his  final  success 
might  depend,  brought  to  a  speedy  conclusion  his  campaign  in 
the  Netherlands,  which  a  liberal  supply  of  money  from  the  Eng- 
lish queen,  who  now  concurred  in  his  views,  had  rendered  uni- 
formly successful,  and  putting  his  army  into  winter  quarters, 
hurried  over  to  England  to  throw  himself  at  her  feet. 

He  was  welcomed  with  all  the  demonstrations  of  satisfaction 
which  could  revive  or  confirm  the  hopes  of  a  suitor;  every  mark 
of  honour,  every  pledge  of  affection,  was  publicly  conferred  upon 
feim ;  and  the  queen,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  splendid  festival  on 
the  anniversary  of  her  coronation,  even  went  so  far  as  to  place 
on  his  finger  a  ring  drawn  from  her  own.  This  passed  in  sight 
of  the  whole  assembled  court,  who  naturally  regarded  the  action 
as  a  kind  of  betrothment ;  and  the  long  suspense  being  appa- 
rently ended,  the  feelings  of  every  party  broke  forth  without  re- 
straint or  disguise. 

Some  rejoiced  ;  more  grieved  or  wondered  ;  Leicester,  Hatton 
and  Walsingham  loudly  exclaimed  that  ruin  impended  over  the 
church,  the  country,  and  the  queen.  The  ladies  of  the  court 
alarmed  and  agitated  their  mistress  by  tears,  cries,  and  lament- 
ations. A  sleepless  and  miserable  night  was  passed  by  the  queen 
amid  her  disconsolate  handmaids  :  the  next  morning  she  sent  for 
Anjou,  and  held  with  him  a  long  private  conversation ;  after 
which  he  retired  to  his  chamber,  and  hastily  throwing  from  him, 
but  as  quickly  resuming,  the  ring  which  she  had  given  him,  utter- 
ed many  reproaches  against  the  levity  of  women  and  the  fickle- 
ness of  islanders. 

Such  is  the  account  given  by  the  annalist  Camden  ;  our  only 
authority  for  circumstances  some  of  them  so  public  in  their  na- 
ture, that  it  is  surprising  they  should  not  be  recorded  by  others, 
the  rest  so  secret  that  we  are  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  they 
should  have  become  known  to  him.  What  is  certain  in  the  mat- 
ter is, — that  the  French  prince  remained  in  England  above  two 
months  after  this  festival ; — that  no  diminution  of  the  queen's 
attentions  to  him  became  apparent  during  that  time  ; — that  when 
his  affairs  imperiously  demanded  his  return  to  the  Netherlands, 
Elizabeth  still  detained  him  that  she  might  herself  conduct  him 
on  his  way  as  far  as  Canterbury  ; — that  she  then  dismissed  him 
with  a  large  supplyof  money  and  a  splendid  retinue  of  English 
lords  and  gentleidj^and  that  he  promised  a  quick  return. 

Let  us  hear  on^r  subject  lord  Talbot's  report  to  his  father. . 

.  .  .  .  "  Monsieur  hath  taken  shipping  into  Flanders  ....  there 
is  gone  over'  with  him  my  lord  of  Leicester,  my  lord  Hunsdon, 
my  lord  Charles  Howard,  my  lord  Thomas  Howard,  my  lord 
Windsor,  my  lord  Sheffield,  my  lord  Willoughby,  and  a  number 
©t  young  gentlemen  besides.  As  soon  as  he  is  at  Antwerp  all 
the  Englishmen  return,  which  is  thought  will  be  about  a  fortnight 
hence.  .  .  .  The  departure  was  mournful  between  her  majesty  and 


3t)4 


THE  COURT  OF 


Monsieur ;  she  loth  to  let  him  go,  and  he  as  loth  to  depart.  Her 
majesty  on  her  return  will  be  long  in  no  place  in  which  she  lodged 
as  she  went,  neither  will  she  come  to  Whitehall,  because  the 
places  shall  not  give  cause  of  remembrance  to  her  of  him  with 
whom  she  so  unwillingly  parted.  Monsieur  promised  his  return 
in  March,  but  how  his  Low  Country  causes  will  permit  him  is 
uncertain.  Her  highness  went  no  further  but  Canterbury,  Mon- 
sieur took  shipping  at  Sandwich."* 

It  is,  after  all,  extremely  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  cir 
cumstances  here  related  ought  to  invalidate  any  part  of  Cam- 
den's narrative.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Elizabeth  had  at 
times  been  violently  tempted  to  accept  this  young  prince  for  a 
husband ;  and  even  when  she  sent  Walsingham  to  France  instruc- 
ted to  conclude,  if  possible,  the  league  without  the  marriage,  she 
evidently  had  not  in  her  own  mind  absolutely  concluded  against 
the  latter  measure,  because  she  particularly  charged  him  to -exa- 
mine whether  the  duke,  who  had  lately  recovered  from  the  small 
pox,  still  retained  enough  of  his  good  looks  to  engage  a  lady's  af- 
fections. It  is  probable  that  his  second  visit  revived  her  love  : 
and  the  truth  of  the  circumstance  of  her  publicly  presenting  to 
him  a  ring,  is  confirmed  by  Camden's  further  statement,  that  St. 
Aldegond,  minister  in  England  for  the  United  Provinces,  M'rotc 
word  of  it  to  the  States,  who  regarding  the  match  as  now  conclu  * 
ded,  caused  public  rejoicings  to  be  celebrated  at  Antwerp.  After 
this  the  duke  would  undoubtedly  press  for  a  speedy  solemnisa- 
tion, and  he  cannot  but  have  experienced  some  degree  of  disap- 
pointment in  at  length  quitting  the  country,  re  infecta.  But  it 
was  still  greatly  and  obviously  his  interest  to  remain  on  the  best 
possible  terms  with  Elizabeth,  in  order  to  secure  from  her  that 
co-operation,  and  those  pecuniary  aids,  on  which  the  success  of 
his  affairs  in  the  Netherlands  must  mainly  depend.  It  is  even 
possible  that  a  further  acquaintance  with  the  state  of  public  opi- 
nion in  England,  and  with  the  temper,  maxims,  and  personal 
qualities  of  the  queen  herself,  might  very  much  abate  the  poig- 
nancy of  his  mortification,  or  even  incline  him  secretly  to  prefer 
the  character  of  her  ally  to  that  of  her  husband.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  the  favourite  son  of  Catherine  de'  Medici  was  a  sufficient 
adept  in  the  dissimulation  of  courts  to  assume  with  ease  all  the 
demonstrations  of  complacency  and  good  understanding  that  the 
case  required,  whatever  portion  of  indignation  or  malice  he  might 
conceal  in  his  heart.  Neither  was  Elizabeth  a  novice  in  the  arts 
of  feigning ;  and  even  without  the  promptings  of  those  tender  re- 
grets which  accompany  a  sacrifice  extorted  b^feason  from  incli- 
nation, she  would  have  been  careful,  by  evUpnanifestation  of 
friendship  and  esteem,  to  smooth  over  the  affront  which  her 
change  of  purpose  had  compelled  her  to  put  upon  the  brother  and 
heir  of  so  potent  a  monarch  as  the  king  of  France. 

Shortly  after  his  return  to  the  continent,  the  duke  of  Anjou 
lost  at  once  his  reputation,  and  his  hopes  of  an  independent  prin- 


*  <<  Illustrations,"  vol.  ii.  p.  258. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


305 


<ipality,  in  an  unprincipled  and  abortive  attempt  on  the  liberties 
of  the  provinces  which  had  chosen  him  as  their  protector ;  and  his 
death,  which  soon  followed,  brings  to  a  conclusion  this  long  and 
mortifying  chapter,  occupied  with  the  follies  of  the  wise.  It  is 
worth  observing,  that  appearances  in  this  affair  were  kept  up  to 
the  last :  the  English  ambassador  refrained  from  giving  in  his  of- 
ficial letters  any  particulars  of  the  last  illness  of  Monsieur,  lest  he 
should  aggravate  the  grief  of  her  majesty ;  and  the  king  of  France, 
in  defiance  of  some  established  rules  of  court  precedence  and 
etiquette,  admitted  this  minister  to  pay  his  compliments  of  con- 
dolence before  all  others,  professedly  because  he  represented  that 
princess  who  best  loved  his  brother. 

Bohun  ends  his  minute  description  of  "  the  habit  of  queen  Eli- 
zabeth in  public  and  private,"  with  a  passage  proper  to  com- 
plete this  pori ion  of  her  history.  "The  coming  of  the  duke 
d'Alencon  opened  a  way  to  a  more  free  way  of  living,  and  relax- 
ed very  much  the  old  severe  form  of  disclipline.  The  queen 
danced  often  then,  and  omitted  no  sort  of  recreation,  pleasing 
conversation,  or  variety  of  delights  for  his  satisfaction.  At  the 
same  time,  the  plenty  of  good  dishes,  pleasant  wines,  fragrant 
ointments  and  perfumes,  dances,  masks,  and  variety  of  rich  attire, 
were  all  taken  up  and  used  to  show  him  how  much  he  was  hon- 
oured. There  were  then  acted  comedies  and  tragedies  with  much 
cost  and  splendour.  When  these  things  had  once  been  enter- 
tained, the  courtiers  were  never  more  to  be  reclaimed  from  them, 
and  they  could  not  be  satiated  or  wearied  with  them.  But  when 
Alencon  was  once  dismissed  and  gone,  the  queen  herself  left  off 
these  diversions,  and  betook  herself  as  before  to  the  care  of  her 
kingdom,  and  both  by  example  and  severe  corrections  endeavour- 
ed to  reduce  her  nobility  to  their  old  severe  way  of  life." 


300 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  XXI 


1582  to  1587. 

Traits  of  the  queen. — Brown  and  his  sect. — Promotion  of  Wliit- 
gift. — Severities  exercised  against  the  puritans. — Embassy  of 
Walsingham  to  Scotland. — Particulars  of  lord  Willoughby. — 
Transactions  with  the  Czar. — Death  of  Sussex. — Adventures  of 
Egremond  Ratcliffe — of  the  earl  of  Desmond. — Account  of  Ra 
high — of  Spenser. — Prosecutions  of  catholics. — Burleigh's  apo- 
logy for  the  government. — Leicester's  Commonwealth. — Loyal 
association. — Transactions  with  the  queen  of  Scots. — Account  of 
Parry. — Case  of  the  earl  of  Arundel — of  the  earl  of  Northum- 
berland.— Transactions  of  Leicester  in  Holland. — Death  and 
character  of  P.  Sidney — of  sir  H.  Sidney. — Return  of  Leicester. 
— Approaching  war  with  Spain. — Babingtoris  conspiracy. — 
Trial  and  condemnation  of  the  queen  of  Scots. — Rejoicings  of 
the  people. — Artful  conduct  of  the  queen. — Reception  of  the 
Scotch  embassy. — Conduct  of  Davison. —  Death  of  Mary. — Be- 
haviour of  Elizabeth. — Davison's  case. — Conduct  of  Leicester. 
Reflections. 

The  disposition  of  Elizabeth  was  orginally  deficient  in  be- 
nevolence and  sympathy,  and  prone  to  suspicion,  pride  and  an- 
ger ;  and  we  observe  with  pain  in  the  progress  of  her  history, 
how  much  the  influences  to  which  her  high  station  and  the  pecu- 
liar circumstances  of  her  reign  inevitably  exposed  her,  tended  in 
various  modes  to  exasperate  these  radical  evils  of  her  nature. 

The  extravagant  flattery  administered  to  her  daily  and  hourly, 
was  of  most  pernicious  effect ;  it  not  only  fostered  in  her  an  ab- 
surd excess  of  personal  vanity,  but,  what  was  worse,  by  filling  her 
with  exaggerated  notions  both  of  her  own  wisdom  and  of  her  so- 
vereign power  and  prerogative,  it  contributed  to  render  her  rule 
more  stern  and  despotic,  and  her  mind  on  many  points  incapable 
of  sober  counsel.  This  effect  was  remarked  by  one  of  her  clergy, 
who,  in  a  sermon  preached  in  her  presence,  had  the  boldness  to 
tell  her,  that  she  who  had  been  meek  as  lamb  was  become  an  un- 
tameable  heifer  ;  for  which  reproof  he  was  in  his  turn  reprehend- 
ed by  her  majesty  on  his  quitting  the  pulpifks  "  an  over  confi- 
dent man  who  dishonoured  his  sovereign." 

The  decay  of  her  beauty  was  an  unwelcome  truth  which  all 
the  artifices  of  adulation  were  unable  to  hide  from  her  secret 
consciousness  ;  since  she  could  never  behold  her  image  in  a  mir- 
ror, during  the  latter  years  of  her  life,  without  transports  of  im- 
potent anger  ;  and  this  circumstance  contributed  not  a  little  to  ' 
sour  her  temper,  while  it  rendered  the  young  and  lovely  the 
chosen  objects  of  her  malignity. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


307 


On  this  head  the  following  striking  anecdote  is  furnished  by 

sir  John  Harrington  "  She  did  oft  ask  the  ladies  around  her 

chamber,  if  they  loved  to  think  of  marriage?  And  the  wise  ones 
did  conceal  well  (heir  liking  hereto,  as  knowing  the  queen's 
judgment  in  this  matter.  Sir  Matthew  Arundel's  fair  cousin, 
not  knowing  so  deeply  as  her  fellows,  was  asked  one  day  here- 
of, and  simply  said,  she  had  thought  much  about  marriage,  if  her 
father  did  consent  to  the  man  she  loved.    4  You  seem  honest 

i'faith,'  said  the  queen  ,*  '  I  will  sue  for  you  to  your  father.'  

The  damsel  was  not  displeased  hereat;  and  when  sir  Robert  came 
to  court,  the  queen  asked  him  hereon,  and  pressed  his  consent- 
ing, if  the  match  was  discreet.  Sir  Robert,  much  astonied  at 
this  news,  said  he  never  heard  his  daughter  had  liking  to  any 
man,  and  wanted  to  gain  knowledge  of  her  affection  ;  but  would 
give  free  consent  to  what  was  most  pleasing  to  her  highness  will 
and  advice.  '  Then  I  will  do  the  rest,'  saith  the  queen.  The 
lady  was  called  in,  and  the  queen  told  her  that  her  father  had 
given  his  free  consent.  '  Then,'  replied  the  lady,  *  I  shall  be  hap- 
py, ancj  please  your  grace.'  '  So  thou  shalt,  but  not  to  be  a  fool 
and  marry  ;  I  have  his  consent  given  to  me,  and  I  vow  thou  shalt 
never  get  it  into  thy  possession.  So  go  to  thy  business,  I  see 
thou  art  a  bold  one  to  own  thy  foolishness  so  readily.'  "* 

The  perils  of  many  kinds,  from  open  and  secret  enemies,  by 
which  Elizabeth  had  found  herself  environed  since  her  unwise 
and  unauthorised  detention  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  aggravated 
the  mistrustfulness  of  her  nature  ;  and  the  severities  which  fear 
and  anger  led  her  to  exercise  against  that  portion  of  her  sub- 
jects who  still  adhered  to  the  ancient  faith,  increased  its  harsh- 
ness. It  is  true  that,  since  the  fulmination  of  the  papal  anathe- 
ma, the  zealots  of  this  church  had  kept  no  measures  with  respect 
to  her  either  in  their  words,  their  writings,  or  their  actions. 
Plans  of  insurrection  and  even  of  assassination  were  frequently 
revolved  in  their  councils,  but  as  often  disappointed  by  the  ex- 
traordinary vigilance  and  sagacity  of  her  ministers  ;  while  the 
courage  evinced  by  her  herself  under  these  circumstances  of  se- 
vere probation  was  truly  admirable.  Bacon  relates  that  l<  the 
council  once  represented  to  her  the  danger  in  which  she  stood 
by  the  continual  conspiracies  against  her  life,  and  acquainted  her 
that  a  man  was  lately  taken  w  ho  stood  ready  in  a  very  dangerous 
and  suspicious  manner  to  do  the  deed  ;  and  they  showed  her  the 
weapon  wherewith  he  thought  to  have  acted  it.  And  therefore 
they  advised  her  that  she  should  go  less  abroad  to  take  the  air, 
weakly  attended,  as  she  used.  But  the  queen  answered, ' that  she 
had  rather  be  dedd  than  put  in  custody'  " 

"Ireland,"  says  Naunton,  "cost  her  more  vexation  than  any  thing 
else  ;  the  expense  of  it  pinched  her,  the  ill  success  of  her  officers 
wearied  her,  and  in  that  service  she  grew  hard  to  please."  She 
also  arrived  at  a  settled  persuasion  that  the  extreme  of  seve- 
rity was  safar  than  that  of  indulgence ;  an  opinion  which,  being 


*  c-NugSB." 


308 


THE  COURT  OF 


communicated  to  her  officers  and  ministers,  was  the  occasion, 
especially  in  Ireland,  of  many  a  cruel  and  arbitrary  act. 

When  angry,  she  observed  little  moderation  in  the  expression  of 
her  feelings.  In  the  private  letters  even  of  Cecil,  whom  she  treat- 
ed on  the  whole  with  more  consideration  than  any  other  person, 
we  find  not  unfrequent  mention  of  the  harsh  words  which  he  had 
to  endure  from  her,  sometimes,  as  he  says,  on  occasions  when  he 
appeared  to  himself  deserving  rather  of  thanks  than  of  censure. 
The  earl  of  Shrewsbury  often  complains  to  his  correspondents 
of  her  captious  and  irascible  temper ;  and  we  find  Walsingham 
taking  pains  to  console  sir  Henry  Sidney  under  some  manifesta- 
tions of  her  displeasure,  by  the  assurance  that  they  had  proceeded 
only  from  one  of  those  transient  gusts  of  passion  for  which  she 
was  accustomed  to  make  sudden  amends  to  her  faithful  servants 
by  new  and  extraordinary  tokens  of  her  favour. 

There  was  no  branch  of  prerogative  of  which  Elizabeth  was 
more  tenacious  than  that  which  invested  her  with  the  sole  and 
supreme  direction  of  ecclesiastical  affairs.  The  persevering 
efforts  therefore  of  the  puritans,  to  obtain  various  relaxations  or 
alterations  of  the  laws  which  she  in  her  wisdom  had  laid  down 
for  the  government  of  the  church, — on  failure  of  which  they  scru- 
pled not  to  recall  to  her  memory  the  strong  denunciations  of  the 
Jewish  prophets  against  wicked  and  irreligious  princes, — at  once 
exasperated  and  alarmed  her,  and  led  her  to  assume  continually 
more  and  more  of  the  incongruous  and  odious  character  of  a  pro- 
testant  persecutor  of  protestants.  But  the  puritans  themselves 
must  have  seemed  guiltless  in  her  eyes,  compared  with  a  new 
sect,  the  principles  of  which,  tending  directly  to  the  abrogation 
of  all  authority  of  the  civil  magistrate  in  spiritual  concerns,  call- 
ed forth  about  this  time  her  indignation  manifested  by  the  ut- 
most severity  of  penal  infliction. 

It  was  in  the  year  1580  that  Robert  Brown,  having  completed 
his  studies  in  divinity  at  Cambridge,  began  to  preach  at  Norwich 
against  the  discipline  and  ceremonies  of  the  church  of  England, 
and  to  promulgate  a  scheme  which  he  affirmed  to  be  more  con- 
formable to  the  apostolical  model.  According  to  his  system, 
each  congregation  of  believers  was  to  be  regarded  as  a  separate 
church,  possessing  in  itself  full  jurisdiction  over  its  own  concerns; 
the  liberty  of  prophesying  was  to  be  indulged  to  all  the  brethren 
equally,  and  pastors  were  to  be  elected  and  dismissed  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  majority,  in  whom  he  held  that  all  power  ought 
of  right  to  reside.  On  account  of  these  opinions  Brown  was  call- 
ed before  certain  ecclesiastical  commissioners,  who  imprisoned 
him  for  contumacy;  but  the  interference  of  his  relation  lord  Bur- 
leigh procured  his  release,  after  which  he  repaired  to  Holland, 
where  he  founded  several  churches  and  published  a  book  in  de- 
fence of  his  system,  in  which  he  strongly  inculcated  upon  his 
disciples  the  duty  of  separating  themselves  from  what  he  stated 
antichristian  churches  For  the  sole  offence  of  distributing  this 
work,  two  men  were  hanged  in  Suffolk  in  1583 ;  to  which  extre- 
mity of  punishment  they  were  subjected  as  having  impugned  the. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


309 


queen's  supremacy,  which  was  declared  felony  by  a  late  statute 
now  for  the  first  time  put  in  force  against  protestants.  Brown 
himself,  after  his  return  from  Holland,  was  repeatedly  imprisoned, 
and,  but  for  the  protection  of  his  powerful  kinsman  might  proba- 
bly have  shared  the  fate  of  his  two  disciples.  At  length,  the  ter 
ror  of  a  sentence  of  excommunication  drove  him  to  recant,  and 
joining  the  established  church  he  soon  obtained  preferment.  But 
the  Brownist  sect  suffered  little  by  the  desertion  of  its  founder, 
whose  private  character  was  far  from  exemplary:  in  spite  of  pe- 
nal laws,  of  persecution,  and  even  of  ridicule  and  contempt,  k 
survived,  increased,  and  eventually  became  the  model,  on  which 
the  churches  not  only  of  the  sect  of  Independents,  butaisoof  the 
two  other  denominations  of  English  protestant  dissenters  remain 
at  the  present  day  constituted. 

The  death  of  archbishop  Grindal  in  1583,  afforded  the  queen 
the  long  desired  opportunity  of  elevating  to  the  primacy  a  prelate 
not  inclined  to  offend  her,  like  his  predecessor,  by  any  remiss- 
ness in  putting  in  force  the  laws  against  puritants  and  other  non- 
conformists. She  nominated  to  this  high  dignity  Whitgift  bishop 
of  Worcester,  known  to  polemics  as  the  zealous  antagonist  of 
Cartwright  the  puritan,  and  further  recommended  to  her  majesty 
by  his  single  life,  his  talents  for  business,  whether  secular  or  eccle- 
siastical, his  liberal  and  hospitable  style  of  living,  and  the  nume- 
rous train  of  attendants  which  swelled  the  pomp  of  his  appear- 
ance on  occasions  of  state  and  ceremony,  when  he  even  claimed 
to  be  served  on  the  knee. 

This  promotion  forms  an  important  ?era  in  the  ecclesiastical 
history  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  :  but  only  a  few  circumstances 
more  peculiarly  illustrative  of  the  sentiments  and  disposition  of 
Whitgift,  of  the  queen  herself,  and  of  some  of  her  principal  coun- 
sellors, can  with  propriety  find  a  place  in  a  work  like  the  present. 

To  bring  back  the  clergy  to  that  exact  uniformity  with  respect 
to  doctrines,  rites,  and  ceremonies,  from  which  the  lenity  of  his 
predecessor  had  suffered  them  in  many  instances  to  recede,  ap- 
peared to  the  new  primate  the  first  and  most  esssential  duty  of 
his  office  ;  and  the  better  to  enforce  obedience,  he  eagerly  de- 
manded to  be  armed  with  that  plenitude  of  power  which  her  ma- 
jesty as  head  of  the  church  was  authorised  to  delegate  at  her 
pleasure.  His  request  was  granted  with  alacrity,  and  the  work 
of  intolerance  began.  Subscriptions  were  now  required  of  the 
whole  clerical  body  to  the  supremacy;  to  the  book  of  Common- 
prayer  ;  and  to  the  articles  of  religion  settled  by  the  convocation 
of  1560.  In  consequence  of  this  first  step  alone,  so  large  a  num- 
ber of  zealous  preachers  and  able  divines  attached  to  the  Cal- 
vinistic  model  were  suspended  from  their  functions  for  non-com- 
pliance, that  the  privy-council  took  alarm,  and  addressed  a  let- 
ter to  the  archbishop  requesting  a  conference  ;  but  he  loftily  re- 
proved their  interference  in  matters  of  this  nature,  declaring 
himself  amenable  in  the  discharge  of  his  functions  to  his  sove-' 
reign  alone.  In  the  following  year  he  prevailed  upon  her  ma- 
jesty to  appoint  a  second  high-commission  court,  the  members  of 


310 


THE  COURT  OB 


which  were  authorised,  ex  officio,  to  administer  interrogatories  on 
oath  in  matters  of  faith  ; — an  assumption  of  power  not  merely 
cruel  and  oppressive,  but  absolutely  illegal,  if  we  are  to  rely  on 
Beal,  clerk  of  the  council,  an  able  and  learned  but  somewhat  in- 
temperate partisan  of  the  puritans,  who  published  on  this  occa- 
sion a  work  against  the  archbishop.  To  enter  into  controversy 
was  now  no  part  of  the  plan  of  Whitgift ;  he  held  it  as  a  maxim, 
that  it  was  safer  and  better  for  an  established  church  to  silence 
than  <o  confute  ;  and  a  book  of  Calvinistic  discipline  having  issu- 
ed from  the  Cambridge  press,  he  procured  a  Star-chamber  de- 
cree for  lessening  and  limiting  the  number  of  presses  ;  for  re- 
straining any  man  from  exercising  the  trade  of  a  printer  without 
a  special  licence  ;  and  for  subjecting  all  works  to  the  censorship 
of  the  archbishop  or  the  bishop  of  London.  At  the  same  time  he 
vehemently  declared  that  he  would  rather  He  in  prison  all  his 
life,  or  die,  than  grant  any  indulgence  to  puritans;  and  he  ex- 
pressed his  wonder,  as  well  as  indignation,  that  men  high  in 
place  should  countenance  the  factious  portion  of  the  clergy,  low 
and  obscure  individuals  and  not  even  considerable  by  their  num- 
bers, against  him,  the  second  person  of  the  state.  The  earl  of 
Leicester  was  not  however  to  be  intimidated  from  extending  to 
these  conscientious  sufferers  a  protection  which  was  in  many  in- 
stances effectual:  Walsingham  occasionally  interceded  in  be- 
half of  Calvinistic  preachers  of  eminence ;  and  sir  Francis 
Knolles,  whose  influence  with  the  queen  was  considerable,  never 
failed  to  encounter  the  measures  of  the  primate  with  warm,  cou- 
rageous, and  persevering  opposition.  Even  Burleigh,  whom 
Whitgift  had  regarded  as  a  friend  and  patron,  and  hoped  to  num- 
ber among  his  partisans,  could  not  forbear  expressing  to  him  on 
various  occasions  his  serious  disapprobation  of  the  rigours  now 
resorted  to  ;  nor  was  he  to  be  silenced  by  the  plea  of  the  arch- 
bishop, that  he  acted  entirely  by  the  command  of  her  majesty. 
On  the  contrary,  as  instances  multiplied  daily  before  his  eyes  of 
the  tyranny  and  persecution  exercised,  through  the  extraordinary 
power  of  the  ecclesiastical  commission,  on  ministers  of  unble- 
mished piety  and  often  of  exemplary  usefulness,  his  remonstran- 
ces assumed  a  bolder  tone  and  more  indignant  character :  as  in 
the  ■following  instance.  "  But  when  the  said  lord  treasurer  un- 
derstood;  that  two  of  these  ministers,  living  in  Cambridgeshire, 
whom  for  the  good  report  of  their  modesty  and  peaceableness  he 
had  a  little  before  recommended  unto  the  archbishop's  favour, 
were  by  the  archbishop  in  commission  sent  to  a  register  in  Lon- 
don, to  be  strictly  examined  upon  those  four  and  twenty  articles 
before  mentioned,  he  was  displeased.  And  reading  over  the  ar- 
ticles himself,  disliked  them  as  running  in  a  Romish  style,  and 
making  no  distinction  of  persons.  Which  caused  him  to  write 
in  some  earnestness  to  the  archbishop,  and  in  his  letter  he  told 
him,  that  he  found  these  articles  so  curiously  penned,  so  full  of 
branches  and  circumstances,  as  he  thought  the  inquisitors  of  Spain 
used  not  so  many  questions  to  comprehend  and  to  trap  their 
preys.  And  that  this  juridical  and  canonical  sifting  of  poor  min- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


311 


isters  was  not  to  edify  and  reform.  And  that  in  charity  he 
thought,  they  ought  not  to  answer  to  all  these  nice  points,  except 
they  were  very  notorious  offenders  in  papistry  or  heresy :  Beg- 
ging his  grace  to  bear  with  that  one  fault,  if  it  were  so,  that  he  had 
willed  these  ministers  not  to  answer  those  articles,  except  their 
consciences  might  suffer  them."* 

The  archbishop,  in  a  long  and  laboured  answer,  expressed  his 
surprise  at  his  lordship's  "vehement  speeches"  against  the  admin- 
istering of  interrogatories,  "  seeing  it  was  the  ordinary  course  in 
other  courts :  as  in  the  star-chamber,  in  the  courts  of  the  marches, 
and  in  other  places:"  and  he  advanced  many  argum'ents,  or 
assertions,  in  defence  of  his  proceedings,  none  of  which  proved 
satisfactory  to  the  lord  treasurer,  as  appeared  by  his  reply.  In 
the  end,  the  archbishop  found  himself  obliged  to  compromise  this 
dispute  by  engaging  that  in  futur^the  twenty-four  articles  should 
only  be  administered  to  students  in  divinity  previouslyTto  their 
ordination;  and  not  to  ministers  already  settled  in  cures,  un- 
less they  should  have  openly  declared  themselves  against  the 
church-government  by  law  established.  But  this  instance  of 
concession  extorted  by  the  urgency  of  Walsingham,  appears  to 
have  been  a  solitary  one ;  the  high  commission,  with  the  arch- 
bishop at  its  head,  proceeded  unrelentingly  in  the  work  of 
establishing  conformity,  and  crushing  with  a  strong  hand  all 
appeals  to  the  sense  of  the  public  on  controverted  points  of 
discipline  or  doctrine.  The  queen  vehemently  prepossessed 
with  the  idea  that  the  opposers  of  episcopacy  must  ever  be  ill 
aifected  also  to  monarchy,  made  no  scruple  of  declaring,  after 
some  years  experience  of  the  untameable  spirit  of  the  sect,  that 
the  puritans  w  ere  greater  enemies  of  hers  than  the  papists  ;  and 
in  the  midst  of  her  greatest  perils  from  the  machinations  of  the 
latter  sect,  she  seldom  judged  it  necessary  to  conciliate  by  indul- 
gence the  attachment  of  the  former.    Several  Calvinistic  minis- 


tal  punishment,  on  account  of  the  scruples  which  they  entertain- 
ed respecting  the  lawfulness  of  acknowledging  the  queen's  su- 
premacy :  on  the  other  hand,  the  attempts  of  sir  Francis  Knolles 
to  inspire  her  majesty  with  jealousy  of  the  designs  of  the  arch- 
bishop, by  whom  some  advances  were  made  towards  claiming  for 
the  episcopal  order  an  authority  by  divine  right,  independently 
of  the  appointment  of  the  head  of  the  church,  failed  entirely  of 
success.  No  ecclesiastic  had  ever  been  able  to  acquire  so  great 
an  ascendancy  over  the  mind  of  Elizabeth  as  Whitgift ;  there  was 
a  conformity  in  their  views,  and  in  some  points  a  sympathy  in 
their  characters,  which  seem  to  have  secured  to  the  primate  in  all 
his  undertakings  the  sanction  and  approval  of  his  sovereign  :  his 
favour  continued  unimpaired  to  the  latest  hour  of  her  life  :  it  was 
from  his  lips  that  she  desired  to  receive  the  final  consolations  of 
religion  ;  and  regret  for  her  loss,  from  the  apprehension  of  un- 
welcome changes  in  the  ecclesiastical  establishment  under  the 
auspices  of  her  successor,  is  believed  to  have  contributed  to  the 


ters,  during  the  course  of  tl 


subjected  even  to  capi- 


'  tMe  oi  Whitgifi,"  by  Sirvpe. 


>12 


THE  COURT  OF 


attack  which  carried  off  the  archbishop  within  a  year  after  the 
decease  of  his  gracious  and  lamented  mistress. 

Elizabeth  took  an  important  though  secret  part  in  the  struggles 
for  power  among  the  Scottish  nobles  of  opposite  factions  by  which 
that  kingdom  was  now  agitated  during  several  years.  It  has  been 
suspected,  but  seems  scarcely  probable,  that  she  was  concerned 
in  the  conspiracy  of  the  carl  of  Gowrie  for  seizing  the  person  of 
the  young  king ;  she  certainly,  however,  interposed  afterwards 
to  mitigate  his  just  anger  against  the  participators  in  that  dark 
design.  On  the  whole,  she  was  generally  enabled  to  gain  all  the 
influence  in  the  court  of  Scotland  which  she  found  necessary  to 
her  ends ;  for  James  could  always  be  intimidated,  and  his  min- 
ions most  frequently  bribed  or  cajoled.  She  regarded  it,  how- 
ever, as  an  object  of  some  consequence  to  gain  an  accurate  know- 
ledge of  the  character  and  capacity  of  her  young  kinsman,  from 
one  on  whom  she  could  rely  ;  and  for  this  purpose  she  prevailed 
on  Walsingham,  notwithstanding  his  age  and  infirmities,  to  un- 
dertake an  embassy  into  Scotland,  of  which  the  ostensible  objects 
were  so  trifling  that  its  real  purpose  became  perfectly  evident  to 
the  more  sagacious  of  James's  counsellors.  Melvil  confesses, 
that  it  cost  him  prodigious  pains  to  equip  the  king,  at  short  no- 
tice, with  so  much  of  artificial  dignity  and  borrowed  wisdom  as 
might  enable  him  to  pass  successfully  through  the  ordeal  of  Wal- 
singham's  examination.  But  his  labour  was  not  thrown  away ; 
for  James,  who  really  possessed  considerable  quickness  of  parts, 
and  a  competent  share  of  book  learning,  played  with  such  plausi- 
bility the  part  assigned  him,  that  even  this  sagacious  statesman 
is  believed  to  have  returned  impressed  with  a  higher  opinion  of 
his  abilities  than  any  part  of  his  after  conduct  was  found  to  war- 
rant. 

Her  increasing  apprehensions  from  the  hostility  of  the  king  of 
Spain,  caused  Elizabeth  to  cultivate  with  added  fceal  the  friend- 
ship of  the  northern  powers  of  Europe,  and  in  1582  she  sent  the 
Garter  to  the  king  of  Denmark  as  a  pledge  of  amity  ;  making,  at 
the  same  time,  a  fruitless  endeavour  to  obtain  for  English  mer- 
chant ships  some  remission  of  the  duties  newly  levied  by  the 
Danish  sovereign  on  the  passage  of  the  Sound.  It  was  the  pru- 
dent practice  of  her  majesty  to  intrust  these  embassies  of  com- 
pliment to  young  noblemen  lately  come  into  possession  of  their 
estates,  who,  for  her  favour  and  their  own  honour,  were  willing 
to  discharge  them  in  a  splendid  manner  at  their  private  expense. 
The  Danish  mission  was  the  price  which  she  exacted  from  Pere- 
grine Bertie,  lately  called  up  to  the  house  of  peers  as  lord  Wil- 
loughby of  Eresby,  in  right  of  his  mother,  for  her  reluctant  and 
ungracious  recognition  of  his  undeniable  title  to  this  dignity.  On 
the  occurrence  of  this  first  mention  of  a  high-spirited  nobleman, 
afterwards  celebrated  for  a  brilliant  valour  which  rendered  him 
the  idol  of  popular  fame,  the  remarkable  circumstances  of  his 
birth  and  parentage  must  not  be  omitted.  His  mother,  only, 
daughter  and  heir  of  the  ninth  lord  Willoughby  by  a  Spanish 
lady  of  high  birth,  who  had  been  maid  of  honour  to  queen  Cathe- 
rine of  Arragon,  was  first  the  ward  and  afterwards  the  third  wife 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


313 


of  Charles  Brandon,  duke  of  Suffolk,  by  whom  she  had  two  sons, 
formerly  mentioned  as  victims  to  the  sweating  sickness. 

lad  ies  of  that  age  chose  long  to  continue  in  the  unprotect- 
ed state  of  widowhood  ;  and  the  duchess  had  already  re-entered 
the  matrimonial  state  with  Richard  Bertie,  a  person  of  obscure 
birth  but  liberal  education,  when  the  accession  of  Mary  exposed 
her  to  all  the  cruelties  and  oppressions  exercised  without  remorse 
by  the  popish  persecutors  of  that  reign,  upon  such  of  their  private 
enemies  as  they  could  accuse  of  being  also  the  enemies  of  the  ca- 
tholic church.  The  duchess,  during  the  former  reign,  had  drawn 
upon  herself  the  bitter  enmity  of  Gardiner  by  some  imprudent 
and  insulting  manifestations  of  her  abhorrence  of  his  character, 
and  contempt  for  his  religion  ;  and  she  now  learned  with  dismay 
that  it  was  his  intention  to  subject  her  to  a  strict  interrogatory 
on  the  subject  of  her  faith. 

Except  apostacy,  there  was  no  other  resource  than  the  hazard- 
ous and  painful  one  of  voluntary  banishment,  and  this  she  with- 
out hesitation  adopted.  Bertie  first  obtained  license  for  quitting 
the  country  on  some  pretended  business  ;  and,  soon  after,  the 
duchess,  attended  only  by  two  or  three  domestics,  escaped  by 
night  with  her  infant  daughter  from  her  house  in  Barbican,  and 
taking  boat  on  the  Thames,  arrived  at  a  pert  in  Kent.  Here  she 
embarked  ;  and  through  many  perils, — for  stress  of  weather  com- 
pelled her  to  put  back  into  an  English  port,  and  the  search  was 
every  where  very  strict, — she  reached  at  length  a  more  h<  spita* 
ble  shore,  and  rejoined  her  husband  at  Santon  in  the  duchy  of 
Cleves.  From  this  town,  however,  they  were  soon  chased  the 
imminent  apprehension  of  molestation  from  the  bishop  of  Arras. 
It  was  on  an  October  evening  that,  followed  only  by  two  maid- 
servants, on  foot,  through  rain  and  mire  and  darkness,  Bertie 
carrying  a  bundle  and  the  duchess  her  child,  the  forlorn  wan- 
derers began  their  march  for  Wesel,  one  of  the  Hanse-iowns, 
about  four  miles  distant.  On  their  arrival,  their  wild  and  wretch- 
ed appearance,  with  the  sword  which  Bertie  carried,  gave  them 
in  the  eyes  of  the  inhabitants  so  suspicious  an  appearance,  that 
no  one  would  harbour  them  ;  and  while  her  husband  ran  from 
inn  to  inn  vainly  imploring  admittance,  the  afflicted  duchess  was 
compelled  to  betake  herself  to  the  shelter  of  a  church  porch;  and 
there,  in  that  misery  and  desolation  and  want  of  every  thing, 
was  delivered  of  a  child,  to  whom,  in  memory  of  the  circumstance, 
she  gave  the  name  of  Peregrine.  Bertie  meantime,  addressing 
himself  in  Latin  to  two  young  scholars  whom  he  overheard  speak- 
ing together  in  that  language,  obtained  a  direction  to  a  Walloon 
minister,  to  whom  the  duchess  had  formerly  shown  kindness  in 
England.  By  his  means,  such  prompt  and  affectionate  succour 
was  administered  as  served  to  restore  her  to  health ;  and  here 
for  some  time  they  found  rest  for  the  sole  of  their  foot.  A  fresh 
alarm  then  obliged  them  to  remove  into  the  dominions  of  the 
Palsgrave,  where  they  had  remained  till  the  supplies  which  they 
had  brought  with  them  in  money  and  jewels  were  nearly  exhaust- 
ed ;  when  a  friend  of  the  duchess's  having  interested  the  king  of 

Rr 


314 


THE  COURT  OF 


Poland  in  their  behalf,  they  fortunately  received  an  invitation 
from  this  sovereign.  Arriving  in  his  country,  after  great  hard- 
ships and  imminent  danger  of  their  lives,  from  the  brutality  of 
some  soldiers  on  their  way,  a  large  demesne  was  assigned  them 
by  their  princely  protector,  on  which  they  lived  in  great  honour 
and  tranquillity  till  the  happy  accession  vH  Elizabeth  recalled 
them  to  their  native  land. 

Peregrine  lord  Willoughby  found  many  occasions  of  distin- 
guishing himself  in  the  wars  of  Flanders,  where  he  rose  to  the 
rank  of  lieutenant-general.  He  was  not  less  magnanimous  than 
brave  ;  and  disdaining  the  servility  of  a  court  life,  is  thought  to 
have  enjoyed,  on  this  account,  less  of  the  queen's  favour  than 
her  admiration  of  military  merit  would  otherwise  have  prompted 
her  to  bestow  upon  him.  He  died  governor  of  Berwick  in  1601; 
his  son  was  afterwards  created  earl  of  Lindsey,  and  the  title  of 
duke  of  Ancaster  is  now  borne  by  his  descendants. 

The  king  of  Sweden,  conducted  to  the  brink  of  ruin  by  an  un- 
equal contest  with  the  arms  of  Russia,  sent,  in  1583,  a  solemn 
embassy  to  the  queen  of  England  to  entreat  her  to  mediate  a 
peace  for  him.  This  good  work,  in  which  she  cheerfully  engaged, 
was  speedily  brought  to  a  happy  issue ;  and  the  Czar  seized  the 
opportunity  of  the  negociations  to  press  for  the  conclusion  of 
that  league  offensive  and  defensive  with  England,  which  he  had 
formerly  proposed  in  vain.  The  objection  that  such  an  alliance 
was  inconsistent  with  the  laws  of  nations,  since  it  might  engage 
the  queen  to  commit  hostilities  on  princes  against  whom  she  had 
never  declared  war,  made,  as  might  be  expected,  little  impres- 
sion on  this  barbarian  ;  and  Elizabeth  had  considerable  difficulty 
in  escaping  from  the  intimate  embrace  of  his  proffered  friendship, 
to  the  cool  civilities  of  a  commercial  treaty.  Another  perplexing 
circumstance  occured.  The  Czar  had  set  his  heart  upon  an  Eng- 
lish wife ;  some  say  he  ventured  to  address  the  queen  herself ;  but 
however  this  might  be,  she  was  about  to  gratify  his  wish  by  send- 
ing him  for  a  bride  a  lady  of  royal  blood,  sister  of  the  earl  of 
Huntingdon,  when  the  information  which  she  received  of  the  un- 
limited privilege  of  divorce  exercised  by  his  Muscovite  majesty, 
deterred  her  from  completing  her  project.  She  was,  in  conse- 
quence, obliged  to  excuse  the  failure  on  the  ground  of  the  de- 
licate health  of  the  young  lady,  the  reluctance  of  her  brother  to 
part  with  her,  and,  what  must  have  filled  the  despot  with  aston  - 
ishment, her  own  inability  to  dispose  of  her  female  subjects  in 
marriage  against  the  consent  of  their  own  relations. 

About  this  time  died  the  earl  of  Sussex.  In  him  the  queen  was 
deprived  of  a  faithful  and  honourable  counsellor,  and  an  affec- 
tionate kinsman ;  Leicester  lost  the  antagonist  whom  he  most 
dreaded,  and  the  nobility  one  of  its  principal  ornaments.  Dying 
childless,  his  next  brother  succeeded  him,  in  whom  the  race  end- 
ed ;  for  Egremond  Ratcliffe,  his  youngest  brother,  had  already 
completed  his  disastrous  destiny.  This  unfortunate  gentleman,* 
it  will  be  remembered,  was  rendered  a  fugitive  and  an  outlaw  by 
the  part  which  he  had  taken,  at  a  very  early  age,  in  the  Northern 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


31J 


rebellion.  For  several  years  he  led  a  forlorn  and  rambling  life, 
sometimes  in  Flanders,  sometimes  in  Spain,  deriving  his  sole 
support  from  an  ill  paid  pension  and  occasional  donations  of  Phi- 
lip II.,  and  often  enduring  extremities  of  poverty  and  hardship. 

Wearied  with  so  many  sufferings  in  a  desperate  cause,  he  then 
employed  all  his  endeavours  to  make  his  peace  at  home:  and 
impatient" at  length  of  the  suspense  which  he  endured,  he  took 
the  step  of  returning  to  England  at  all  hazards  and  throwing 
himself  on  the  compassion  of  lord  Burleigh.  The  treasurer, 
touched  with  his  misery  and  his  expressions  of  penitence,  inter- 
ceded with  the  queen  for  his  pardon  ;  but  she,  on  some  fresh  oc- 
casion of  suspicion,  caused  him  to  be  advised  to  steal  out  of  the 
kingdom  again:  and  neglecting  this  intimation,  he  was  committed 
to  the  Tower.  After  some  months  he  was  released,  possibly  un- 
der a  promise  of  attempting  some  extraordinary  piece  of  service 
to  his  country,  and  was  sent  back  to  Flanders,  where  he  was 
soon  after  apprehended  on  a  charge  of  conspiring  against  the  life 
of  don  John  of  Austria  :  some  say,  and  some  deny,  that  he  con- 
fessed his  guilt,  and  accused  the  English  ministry  of  a  partici- 
pation in  the  design :  however  this  might  be,  he  perished  by  the 
hand  of  public  justice,  a  lamentable  victim  to  the  guilty  violence 
of  the  popish  faction  which  first  beguiled  his  inexperience ;  to 
the  relentless  policy  of  Elizabeth,  which  forbade  the  return 
of  offenders  perhaps  not  incorrigible  ;  and  to  the  desperation 
which,  gaining  dominion  over  his  mind,  had  subverted  all  its 
moral  principles. 

Ireland  had  been  as  usual  the  scene  of  much  danger  and  dis- 
turbance. In  1582  an  attempt  was  made  by  the  King  of  Spain 
to  incite  the  catholic  inhabitants  to  a  general  rebellion,  by  throw- 
ing on  the  coast  a  small  body  of  troops  seconded  by  a  very  con- 
siderable sum  of  money,  and  attended  by  a  number  of  priests 
prepared  to  preach  up  his  title  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  island 
in  virtue  of  the  papal  donation.  But  the  vigorous  measures  of 
Arthur  lord  Grey  the  deputy,  by  holding  the  Irish  in  check,  ren- 
dered this  effort  abortive.  The  Spaniards,  unable  to  penetrate 
into  the  country,  raised  a  fort  near  the  pi  ace  of  their  landing, 
which  they  hoped  to  be  able  to  hold  out  till  the  arrival  of  rein- 
forcements. They  obstinately  refused  the  terms  of  surrender 
first  offered  them  by  the  deputy  ;  and  the  fort  being  afterwards 
taken  by  assault,  the  whole  garrison,  with  the  exception  of  the 
officers,  was  put  to  the  sword  :  an  act  of  cruelty  which  the  de- 
puty is  said  to  have  commanded  with  tears,  in  obedience  to  the 
decision  of  a  court-martial  from  which  he  could  not  venture  to 
depart ;  and  which  Elizabeth  publicly  reprobated,  perhaps  with- 
out internally  condemning. 

The  earl  of  Desmond,  who  on  the  arrival  of  the  Spanish  troops 
had  risen  in  arms  against  the  government  with  all  the  power  he 
could  muster,  was  excepted  from  the  general  pardon  granted  to 
other  Irish  insurgents,  and  thus  remaining  by  necessity  in  a  state 
of  rebellion,  gave  for  some  time  considerable  disquiet,  if  not 
alarm,  to  the  English  government.    But  his  resources  of  every 


316 


THE  COURT  OF 


kind  gradually  falling  off,  he  was  hunted  about  through  bogs  and 
forests,  from  one  fastness  or  lurking  place  to  another,  enduring 
every  kind  of  privation  and  hardship,  and  often  foiling  his  pur- 
suers by  hair-breadth  scapes.  It  is  even  related  that  he  and  his 
countess  on  one  occasion  being  roused  from  their  bed  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  found  no  other  mode  of  concealment  than 
that  of  wading  up  to  their  necks  in  the  river  which  bathed  the 
walls  of  their  retreat.  At  length,  a  small  party  of  soldiers  having 
entered  by  surprise  a  solitary  cabin,  they  there  found  one  old  man 
sitting  alone,  to  whom  their  brutal  leader  gave  a  blow  with  his 
sword,  which  nearly  cut  oft'  his  arm,  and  another  on  the  side  of 
his  head ;  on  which  he  cried  out,  "  I  am  the  earl  of  Desmond." 
The  name  was  no  protection ;  for  perceiving  that  he  bled  fast 
and  was  unable  to  march,  the  ruthless  soldier,  bidding  him  pre- 
pare for  instant  death,  struck  off  his  head  and  brought  it  away  as 
a  trophy ;  leaving  the  mangled  trunk  to  the  chance  of  interment 
by  any  faithful  follower  of  the  house  of  Fitzgerald  who  might 
venture  from  his  hiding  place  to  explore  the  fate  of  his  chief. 
The  head  was  sent  to  England  as  a  present  to  the  queen,  and 
placed  by  her  command  on  London  Bridge. 

From  this  time,  the  beginning  of  1583,  Ireland  enjoyed  a  short 
respite  from  scenes  of  violence  and  blood  under  the  vigorous  yet 
humane  administration  of  sir  John  Perrot,  the  new  deputy. 

The  petty  warfare  of  this  turbulent  province,  amid  the  many  and 
great  evils  of  various  kinds  which  it  brought  forth,  was  produc- 
tive however  of  some  contingent  advantage  to  the  queen's  affairs, 
by  serving  as  a  school  of  military  discipline  to  many  an  officer 
of  merit,  whose  abilities  she  afterwards  found  occasion  to  employ 
in  more  important  enterprises  to  check  the  power  of  Spain.  Ire- 
land was,  in  particular,  the  scene  of  several  of  the  early  ex- 
ploits of  that  brilliant  and  extraordinary  genius  Walter  Raleigh ; 
and  it  was  out  of  his  service  in  this  country  that  an  occasion 
arose  for  his  appearing  before  her  majesty,  which  he  had  the  ta- 
lent and  dexterity  so  to  improve  as  to  make  it  the  origin  of  all  his 
favour  and  advancement.  Raleigh  was  the  poor  younger  brother 
of  a  decayed  but  ancient  family  in  Devonshire.  His  education 
at  Oxford  was  yet  incomplete,  when  the  ardour  of  his  disposition 
impelled  him  to  join  a  gallant  band  of  one  hundred  volunteers 
led  by  his  relation  Henry  Champernon,  in  1569,  to  the  aid  of  the 
French  protestants.  Here  he  served  a  six-years  apprenticeship 
to  the  art  of  war,  after  which,  returning  to  his  own  country,  he 
gave  himself  for  a  while  to  the  more  tranquil  pursuits  of  litera- 
ture ;  for  "both  Minervas"  claimed  him  as  their  own.  In  1578  he 
resumed  his  arms  under  general  Norris,  commander  of  the  English 
forces  in  the  Netherlands  ;  the  next  year,  ambitious  of  a  new 
kind  of  glory,  he  accompanied  that  gallant  navigator  sir  Hum- 
phrey Gilbert,  his  half  brother,  in  a  voyage  to  Newfoundland. 
This  expedition  proving  unfortunate,  he  obtained  in  1580  a  cap- 
tain's commission  in  the  Irish  service  ;  and  recommended  by  his 
vigour  and  capacity,  rose  to  be  governor  of  Cork.  He  was  the 
officer  appointed  to  carry  into  effect  the  bloody  sentence  passed 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


317 


upon  the  Spanish  garrison  ;  a  cruel  service,  but  one  which  the 
military  duty  of  obedience  rendered  matter  of  indispensible  ob- 
ligation. A  quarrel  with  lord  Grey  put  a  stop  to  his  promotion 
in  Ireland  ;  and  on  his  following  this  nobleman  to  England,  their 
difference  was  brought  to  a  hearing  before  the  privy-council, 
when  the  great  talents  and  uncommon  flow  of  eloquence  exhi- 
bited by  Raleigh  in  pleading  his  own  cause,  by  raising  the  admi- 
ration of  all  present,  proved  the  means  of  introducing  him  to  the 
presence  of  the  queen.  His  comely  person,  fine  address,  and 
prompt  proficiency  in  the  arts  of  a  courtier,  did  all  the  rest ; 
and  he  rapidly  rose  to  such  a  height  of  royal  favour  as  to  inspire 
with  jealousy  even  him  who  had  long  stood  foremost  in  the  good 
graces  of  his  sovereign. 

It  is  recorded  of  Raleigh  during  the  early  days  of  his  court 
attendance,  when  a  few  handsome  suits  of  clothes  formed  almost 
the  sum  total  of  his  worldly  wealth,  that  as  he  was  accompany- 
ing the  queen  in  one  of  her  daily  walks, — during  which  she  was 
fond  of  giving  audience,  because  she  imagined  that  the  open  air 
produced  a  favourable  effect  on  her  complexion, — she  arrived  at 
a  miry  spot,  and  stood  in  perplexity  how  to  pass.  With  an  adroit 
presence  of  mind,  the  courtier  pulled  off  his  rich  plush  cloak  and 
threw  it  on  the  ground  to  serve  her  for  a  footcloth.  She  accept- 
ed with  pleasure  an  attention  which  flattered  her,  and  it  was 
afterwards  quaintly  said,  that  the  spoiling  of  a  cloak  had  gained 
him  many  good  suits. 

It  was  in  Ireland  too  that  Edmund  Spenser,  one  of  our  first 
genuine  poets,  whose  rich  and  melodious  strains  will  find  de- 
lighted audience  as  long  as  inexhaustible  fertility  of  invention, 
truth,  fluency,  and  vivacity  of  description,  copious  learning,  and 
a  pure,  amiable  and  heart-ennobling  morality  shall  be  prized 
among  the  students  of  English  verse,  was  now  tuning  his  en- 
chanting lyre  ;  and  the  ear  of  Raleigh  was  the  first  to  catch  its 
strains.  This  eminent  person  was  probably  of  obscure  parentage 
and  slender  means,  for  it  was  as  a  sizer,  the  lowest  order  of 
students,  that  he  was  entered  at  Cambridge  ;  but  that  his  humble 
merit  early  attracted  the  notice  of  men  of  learning  and  virtue  is 
apparent  from  his  intimacy  with  Stubbs,  already  commemorated; 
and  from  his  friendship  with  that  noted  literary  character  Ga- 
briel Hervey,  by  whom  he  was  introduced  to  the  acquaintance, 
of  Philip  Sidney.  His  leaning  towards  puritanical  principles, 
clearly  manifested  by  various  passages  in  the  Shepherd's  Calen- 
dar, had  probably  betrayed  itself  to  his  superiors  at  the  univer- 
sity, by  his  choice  of  associates,  or  other  circumstances,  pre- 
viously to  the  publication  of  that  piece  ;  and  possibly  might  have 
some  share  in  the  disappointment  of  his  hopes  of  a  fellowship 
which  occurred  in  1576.  Quitting  college  on  this  occurrence, 
he  retired  for  some  time  into  the  north  of  England  :  but  the 
friendship  of  Sidney  drew  him  again  from  his  solitude  and  it 
was  at  Penshurst  that  he  composed  much  of  his  Shepherd's  Ca- 
lendar, published  in  1579,  under  the  signature  of  Immerito,  and 
dedicated  to  this  generous  patron  of  his  muse.    The  earl  of 


THE  COURT  OF 


Leicester,  probably  at  his  nephew's  request,  sent  Spenser  the 
same  year  on  some  commission  to  France  ;  and  in  the  next  he 
obtained  the  post  of  secretary  to  lord  Grey,  and  attended  him  to 
Ireland. 

Though  the  child  of  fancy  and  the  muse,  Spenser  now  showed 
that  business  was  not  u  the  contradiction  of  his  fate he  drew 
up  an  excellent  discourse  on  the  state  of  Ireland,  stih  read  and 
valued,  and  received  as  his  reward  the  grant  of  a  considerable 
tract  of  land  out  of  the  forfeited  Desmond  estates,  and  of  the  cas- 
tle of  Kilcolman,  which  henceforth  became  his  residence,  and 
where  he  had  soon  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  a  first  visit  from 
Raleigh.  Both  pupils  of  classical  antiquity,  both  poets  and  as- 
pirants after  immortal  fame,  they  met  in  this  land  of  ignorance 
and  barbarity  as  brothers ;  and  so  strong  was  the  impression 
made  on  the  mind  of  Raleigh,  that  even  on  becoming  a  success- 
ful courtier  he  dismissed  not  from  his  memory  or  his  affection,  the 
tuneful  shepherd  whom  he  left  behind  tending  his  flocks  "under 
the  foot  of  Mole,  that  mountain  hoar."  He  spoke  of  him  to  the 
queen  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  kindred  genius  ;  obtained  for 
him  some  favours,  or  promises  of  favours ;  and  on  a  second  visit 
which  he  made  to  Ireland,  probably  for  the  purpose  of  inspect- 
ing the  large  grants  which  he  had  himself  obtained,  he  drag- 
ged his  friend  from  his  obscure  retreat,  carried  him  over  with 
him  to  England,  and  hastened  to  initiate  him  in  those  arts  of 
pushing  a  fortune  at  court  which  with  himself  had  succeeded  so 
prosperously.  But  bitterly  did  the  disappointed  poet  learn  to 
deprecate  the  mistaken  kindness  which  had  taught  him  to  ex- 
change leisure  and  independence,  though  in  a  solitude  so  bar- 
barous and  remote,  for  the  servility,  the  intrigues,  and  the  treach- 
eries of  this  heart-sickening  scene.  He  put  upon  lasting  record 
his  grief  and  his  repentance,  in  a  few  lines  of  energetic  warning 
to  the  inexperienced  in  the  Mays  of  courts,  and  hastened  back 
to  earn  in  obscurity  his  title  to  immortal  fame  by  the  composi- 
tion of  the  Faery  Queen.  This  great  work  appeared  in  1589, 
with  a  preface  addressed  to  Raleigh  and  a  considerable  appara- 
tus of  recommendatory  poems ;  one  of  which,  a  sonnet  of  great 
elegance,  is  marked  with  initials  which  assign  it  to  the  same  pa- 
tronising friend. 

The  proceedings  of  the  administration  against  papists  accused 
of  treasonable  designs  or  practices,  began  about  this  time  to  ex- 
cite considerable  perturbation  in  the  public  mind ;  for  though 
circumstances  were  brought  to  light  which  seemed  to  justify  in 
some  degree  the  worst  suspicions  entertained  of  this  faction,  a 
system  of  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  government  also  became  ap- 
parent, which  no  true  Englishman  could  without  indignation  and 
horror  contemplate.  The  earl  of  Leicester,  besides  partaking 
writh  the  other  confidential  advisers  of  her  majesty  in  the  blame 
attached  to  the  general  character  of  the  measures  now  pursued, 
lay  under  the  popular  imputation  of  making  these  acts  of  power 
subservient,  in  many  atrocious  instances,  to  his  private  purposes 
of  rapacity  or  vengeance,  and  a  cloud  of  odium  was  raised  against 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


319 


him  which  the  breath  of  his  indulgent  sovereign  was  in  vain  ex- 
erted to  disperse. 

There  was  in  Warwickshire  a  catholic  gentleman  named  So- 
merville,  a  person  of  violent  temper  and  somewhat  disordered  in 
mind,  who  nad  been  worked  up,  by  the  instigations  of  one  Hall 
his  confessor,  to  such  a  pitch  of  fanatical  phrensy,  that  he  set  out 
for  London  with  the  fixed  purpose  of  killing  the  queen;  but  fall- 
ing furiously  upon  some  of  her  protestant  subjects  by  the  way, 
he  was  apprehended,  and  readily  confessed  the  object  of  his  jour- 
ney. Being  closely  questioned,  perhaps  with  torture,  he  is  said 
to  have  dropped  something  which  touched  Mr.  Arden  his  father- 
in-law;  and  Hall  on  examination  positively  declared  that  this 
gentleman  had  oeen  made  privy  to  the  bloody  purpose  of  Somer- 
viile.  On  this  bare  assertion  of  the  priest,  unconfirmed,  as  ap- 
pears, by  any  collateral  evidence,  Arden  was  indicted,  found 
guilty,  and  underwent  the  whole  sentence  of  the  law.  It  hap- 
pened to  be  publicly  known  that  Arden  was  the  personal  enemy 
of  Leicester,  for  he  had  refused  to  wear  his  livery  ; — a  base 
kind  of  homage  which  was  paid  him  without  scruple,  as  it  seems, 
by  other  neighbouring  gentlemen  ; — and  he  was  also  in  the  habit 
of  reproaching  him  with  the  murder  of  his  first  wife.  The  wife 
also  of  Arden  was  the  sister  of  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton,  whom 
Leicester  was  vulgarly  supposed  to  have  poisoned,  and  of  the 
chief  justice  of  Chester  lately  displaced.  When  therefore,  in  ad- 
dition to  these  circumstances  of  suspicion,  it  was  further  obser- 
ved that  Somerville,  instead  of  being  produced  to  deny  or  con- 
firm on  the  scaffold  the  evidence  which  he  was  said  to  have  given 
against  Arden,  died  strangled  in  prison,  by  his  own  hand  as  was 
affirmed  ; — when  it  was  seen  that  Hall,  who  was  confessedly  the 
instigator  of  the  whole,  and  further  obnoxious  to  the  laws  as  a 
catholic  priest,  was  quietly  sent  out  of  the  kingdom  by  Leices- 
ter's means,  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  sir  Christopher  Hatton;. 
— and  finally,  when  it  appeared  that  the  forfeited  lands  of  Arden 
went  to  enrich  a  creature  of  the  same  great  man, — this  victim  of 
law  was  regarded  as  a  martyr,  and  it  was  found  impossible  to 
tie  up  the  tongues  of  men  from  crying  shame  and  vengeance  on 
his  cruel  and  insidious  destroyer. 

The  plot  thickened  when  Francis  Throgmorton,  son  of  the  de- 
graded judge  of  Chester,  was  next  singled  out.  Some  intercept- 
ed letters  to  the  queen  of  Scots  formed  the  first  ground  of  this 
gentleman's  arrest;  but  being  carried  to  the  Tower,  he  was  there 
racked  to  extort  further  discoveries,  and  lord  Paget  and  Charles 
Arundel,  a  courtier,  quitted  the  kingdom  in  haste  as  soon  as 
they  knew  him  to  be  in  custody.  After  this  many  of  the  lead- 
ing catholics  fell  into  suspicion,  particularly  the  earls  of  North- 
umberland and  Arundel,  who  were  ordered  to  confine  them- 
selves to  their  houses  ;  lord  William  Howard,  brother  to  the  lat- 
ter nobleman,  and  his  uncle  lord  Henry  Howard,  were  likewise 
subjected  to  several  long  and  rigorous  examinations,  but  were 
dismissed  at  length  on  full  proof  of  their  perfect  innocence.  The 
confessions  of  Throgmorton  further  implicated  the  Spanish  am- 


320 


THE  COURT  OF 


bassador ;  who  replied  in  so  high  a  tone  to  the  representations 
made  him  on  the  subject,  that  her  majesty  commanded  him  to 
quit  the  kingdom. 

Francis  Throgmorton  was  condemned,  and  suffered  as  a  trai- 
tor, and,  it  is  probable,  not  undeservedly :  there  was  reason  also 
to  believe  that  a  dangerous  activity  was  exercised  by  the  queen 
of  Scots  and  her  agents,  and  that  the  letters  which  she  was  con- 
tinually finding  means  of  conveying,  not  only  to  the  heads  of  the 
popish  party,  but  to  all  whose  connexions  led  her  to  imagine  them 
in  any  degree  favourable  to  the  cause,  had  shaken  the  allegiance 
of  numbers.  On  the  other  hand,  the  catholics  complained  and 
certainly  not  without  reason,  of  dark  and  detestable  means  em- 
ployed by  the  ministry  to  betray  and  ensnare  them.  Counter- 
feited letters,  it  seems,  were  often  addressed  to  gentlemen  of  this 
persuasion,  purporting  to  come  either  from  the  queen  of  Scots 
or  from  certain  English  exiles,  and  soliciting  concurrence  in  some 
scheme  for  her  deliverance,  or  some  design  against  the  govern- 
ment. If  the  unwary  receivers  either  answered  the  letters,  or 
simply  forbore  to  deliver  them  up  to  the  secretary  of  state,  their 
houses  were  entered ;  search  was  made  for  these  papers  by  the 
emissaries  of  government,  who  were  themselves  the  fabricators 
of  them  ;  the  unfortunate  owners  were  dragged  to  prison  as  sus- 
pected persons ;  and  interrogated,  and  perhaps  tortured,  till  they 
discovered  all  that  they  knew  of  the  secrets  of  the  party.  Spies 
were  planted  upon  them,  every  unguarded  word  was  caught  up 
and  interpreted  in  the  worst  sense,  and  false  or  frivolous  accu- 
sations were  greedily  entertained. 

Walsingham,  next  to  Leicester,  bore  the  chief  odium  of  these 
proceedings  ;  but  to  him  no  corrupt  motives  or  private  ends  ever 
appear  to  have  been  imputed  in  particular  cases,  though  an  anx- 
iety to  preserve  his  place,  and  to  recommend  himself  to  the  queen 
his  mistress  by  an  extraordinary  manifestation  of  care  for  her 
safety  and  zeal  in  her  service,  may  not  unfairly  be  supposed  to 
have  influenced  the  general  character  of  his  policy. 

The  loud  complaints  of  the  catholics  had  excited  so  strong  and 
so  widely  diffused  a  sentiment  of  compassion  for  them,  and  indig- 
nation against  their  oppressors,  that  it  was  judged  expedient  to 
publish  an  apology  for  the  measures  of  government,  written  either 
by  lord  Burleigh  himself,  or  under  his  direction,  which  bore  the 
title  of  "A  declaration  of  the  favourable  dealing  of  her  majesty's 
commissioners  appointed  for  the  examination  of  certain  traitors, 
and  of  tortures  unjustly  reported  to  be  done  upon  them  for  mat- 
ters of  religion." 

It  thus  begins  :  "  Good  reader,  although  her  majesty's  most 
mild  and  gracious  government  be  sufficient  to  defend  itself  against 
those  most  slanderous  reports  of  heathenish  and  unnatural  tyran- 
ny and  cruel  tortures  pretended  to  have  been  exercised  upon 
certain  traitors  who  lately  suffered  for  their  treason,  and  others; 
as  well  as  spread  abroad  by  rungates,  Jesuits,  and  seminary  men 
in  their  seditious  books,  letters  and  libels,  in  foreign  countries 
and  princes  courts,  as  also  intimated  into  the  hearts  of  some  of 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


321 


our  own  countrymen  and  her  majesty's  subjects  I  have 

conferred  with  a  very  honest  gentleman  whom  I  knew  to  have 
good  and  sufficient  means  to  deliver  the  truth,"  &c.  And  the 
following  are  the  heads  of  this  "honest  gentleman's"  testimony. 
"  It  is  affirmed  for  truth,  and  is  offered  upon  due  examination  to 
be  proved,"  "  that  the  forms  of  torture  in  their  severity  or  rigour 
of  execution  have  not  been  such  as  is  slanderously  represented," 
.  .  .  .  "  that  even  the  principal  offender  Campion  himself"  .... 
"  before  the  conference  had  with  him  by  learned  men  in  the  Tower 
wherein  he  was  charitably  used,  was  never  so  racked  but  that  he 
was  presently  able  to  walk  and  to  write,  and  did  presently  write 
and  subscribe  all  his  confessions."  That  Briant,  a  man  said  to  . 
have  been  reduced  to  such  extremities  of  hunger  and  thirst  in 
prison,  that  he  ate  the  clay  out  of  the  walls  and  drank  the  dip- 
pings of  the  roof,  was  kept  in  that  state  by  his  own  fault  ^for  cer- 
tain treasonable  writings  being  found  upon  him,  he  was  required 
to  give  a  specimen  of  his  hand-writing;  which  refusing,  he  was 
told  he  should  have  no  food  till  he  wrote  for  what  he  wanted,  and 
after  fasting  nearly  two  days  and  nights,  he  complied.  Also,  that 
both  with  respect  to  these  two  and  others,  it  might  be  affirmed, 
that  the  warders,  whose  office  it  is  to  use  the  rack,  "  were  ever 
by  those  that  attended  the  examinations  specially  charged  to  use 
it  in  as  charitable  a  manner  as  such  a  thing  might  be." 

Secondly,  that  none  of  those  catholics  who  have  been  racked 
during  her  majesty's  reign  were,  "  upon  the  rack  or  in  any  other 
torture,"  demanded  of  any  points  of  faith  and  doctrine  merely, 
"  but  only  with  what  persons,  at  home  or  abroad,  and  touching 
what  plots  and  practices  they  had  dealt  ....  about  attempts 
against  her  majesty's  estate  or  person,  or  to  alter  the  laws  of  the 
realm  for  matters  of  religion,  by  treason  or  by  force  ;  and  how 
they  were  persuaded  themselves  and  did  persuade  others,  touch- 
ing the  pope's  pretence  of  authority  to  depose  kings  and  princes; 
and  namely  for  deprivation  of  her  majesty,  and  to  discharge  sub- 
jects from  their  allegiance,"  &c. 

Thirdly,  that  none  of  them  have  been  put  to  the  rack  or  tor- 
ture, no  not  for  the  matters  of  treason,  or  partnership  of  treason, 
or  such  like,  but  where  it  was  first  known  and  evidently  proba- 
ble, by  former  detections,  confessions,  and  otherwise,  that  the 
party  was  guilty,  and  could  deliver  truth  of  the  things  where- 
with he  was  charged  ;  so  as  it  was  first  assured  that  no  innocent 
was  at  any  time  tormented,  and  the  rack  was  never  used  to  wring- 
out  confessions  at  adventure,  upon  uncertainties,"  &c. 

"  Fourthly,  that  none  of  them  hath  been  racked  or  tortured  un- 
less he  had  first  said  expressly,  or  amounting  to  as  much,  that  he 
will  not  tell  the  truth  though  the  queen  did  command  him,"  &c. 

"  Fifthly,  that  the  proceeding  to  torture  was  always  so  slowly, 
so  unwillingly,  and  with  so  many  preparations  of  persuasions  to 
spare  themselves,  and  so  many  means  to  let  them  know  that  the 
truth  was  by  them  to  be  uttered,  both  in  duty  to  her  majesty,  and 
in  wisdom  for  themselves,  as  whosoever  was  present  at  those  ac- 
tions must  needs  acknowledge  in  her  majesty's  ministers  a  full 


322 


THE  COURT  OF 


purpose  to  follow  the  example  of  her  own  gracious  disposition.'* 

 "  Thus  it  appeareth,  that  albeit,  by  the  more  general 

laws  of  nations,  torture  hath  been,  and  is,  lawfully  judged  to  be 
used  in  lesser  cases,  and  in  sharper  manner,  for  inquisition  of 
truth  in  crimes  not  so  near  extending  to  public  danger  as  these 
ungracious  persons  have  committed,  whose  conspiracies,  and  the 
particularities  thereof,  it  did  so  much  import  and  behove  to  have 
disclosed ;  yet  even  in  that  necessary  use  of  such  proceeding, 
enforced  by  the  offenders  notorious  obstinacy,  is  nevertheless  to 
be  acknowledged  the  sweet  temperature  of  her  majesty's  mild 
and  gracious  clemency,  and  their  slanderous  lewdness  to  be  the 
4  more  condemned,  that  have  in  favour  of  heinous  malefactors  and 
stubborn  traitors  spread  untrue  rumours  and  slanders,  to  make 
he#  merciful  government  disliked,  under  false  pretence  and  ru- 
mours ^f  sharpness  and  cruelty  to  those  against  whom  nothing 
can  be  cruel,  and  yet  upon  whom  nothing  hath  been  done  but 
gentle  and  merciful." 

This  is  a  document  which  speaks  sufficiently  for  itself.  Tor- 
ture, in  any  shape,  was,  even  at  this  time,  absolutely  contrary  to 
the  law  of  the  land  ;  and  happily,  there  was  enough  of  true  Eng- 
lish feeling  in  the  country,  even  under  the  rule  of  a  Tudor,  to 
render  it  expedient  for  Elizabeth,  soon  after  the  exposition  of 
these  "  favourable  dealings"  of  her  commissioners,  to  issue  an 
order  that  no  species  of  it  should  in  future  be  applied  to  state- 
prisoners  on  any  pretext  whatsoever. 

Parsons,  the  Jesuit,  who  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  make 
his  escape  when  his  associate  Campion  was  apprehended,  is  be- 
lieved to  have  been  the  papist  who  sought  to  avenge  his  party  on 
its  capital  enemy  by  the  composition  of  that  virulent  invective 
called  "  Leicester's  Commonwealth :"  a  pamphlet  which  was 
printed  in  Flanders  in  1584,  and  of  which  a  vast  number  of  co- 
pies were  imported  into  England,  where  it  obtained,  from  the 
colour  of  the  leaves  and  the  supposed  author,  the  familiar  title  of 
"Father  Parsons'  Green-coat."  In  this  work  all  the  current 
stories  against  the  unpopular  favourite  were  collected  and  set 
forth  as  well  attested  facts  ;  and  they  were  related  with  that  cir- 
cumstantiality and  minuteness  of  detail  which  are  too  apt  to  pass 
upon  the  common  reader  as  the  certain  and  authentic  characters 
ot  truth  The  success  of  this  book  was  prodigious  ;  it  was  read 
universally  and  with  the  utmost  avidity.  All  who  envied  Lei- 
cester's power  and  grandeur;  all  who  had  smarted  under  his  in- 
solence, or  felt  the  gripe  of  his  rapacity;  all  who  had  been  scan 
dalised,  or  wounded  in  family  honour,  by  his  unbridled  licen 
tiousness  ;  all  who  still  cherished  in  their  hearts  the  image  of  the 
unfortunate  duke  of  Norfolk,  whom  he  was  believed  to  have  en- 
tangled in  a  deadly  snare  ;  all  who  knew  him  for  the  foe  and  sus- 
pected him  for  the  murderer  of  the  gallant  and  lamented  earl  of 
Essex  ; — finally,  all,  and  they  were  nearly  the  whole  of  the  na- 
tion, who  looked  upon  him  as  a  base  and  treacherous  miscreant, 
shielded  by  the  affection  of  his  sovereign  and  wrapped  in  an  im- 
penetrable cloud  of  hypocrisy  and  artifice,  who  aimed  in  the  dark 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


hi&  envenomed  weapons  against  the  bosom  of  innocence; — cx- 
ulted  in  this  exposure  of  his  secret  crimes,  and  eagerly  received 
and  propagated  for  truth  even  the  grossest  of  the  exaggerations 
and  falsehoods  with  which  the  narrative  was  intermixed. 

Elizabeth,  incensed  to  the  last  degree  at  so  furious  an  attack 
upon  the  man  in  whom  her  confidence  was  irremovably  fixed, 
caused  her  council  to  write  letters  to  all  persons  in  authority  for 
the  suppression  of  these  books,  and  punishment  of  such  as  were 
concerned  in  their  dispersion  ;  adding,  at  the  same  time,  the  de- 
claration, that  her  majesty  "  testified  in  her  conscience  before 
God,  that  she  knew  in  assured  certainty  the  books  and  libels 
against  the  earl  to  be  most  malicious,  false,  and  scandalous,  and 
such  as  none  but  an  incarnate  devil  himself  could  dream  to  be 
true."  The  letters  further  stated,  that  her  majesty  regarded  this 
publication  as  an  attempt  to  discredit  her  own  government,  "  as 
though  she  should  have  failed  in  good  judgment  and  discretion 
in  the  choice  of  so  principal  a  councillor  about  her,  or  to  be  with- 
out taste  or  care  of  all  justice  or  conscience,  in  suffering  such 
heinous  and  monstrous  crimes,  as  by  the  said  books  and  libels  be 
infamously  imputed,  to  pass  unpunished  ;  or  finally,  at  the  least, 
to  want  either  good  will,  ability,  or  courage,  if  she  knew  these 
enormities  were  true,  to  call  any  subject  of  hers  whatsoever  to 
render  sharp  account  of  them,  according  to  the  force  of  her  laws." 
The  councillors  in  their  own  persons  afterwards  went  on  to  de- 
clare, that  they,  "  to  do  his  lordship  but  right,  of  their  sincere 
consciences  must  needs  affirm  these  strange  and  abominable 
crimes  to  be  raised  of  a  wicked  and  venomous  malice  against  the 
said  earl,  of  whose  good  service,  sincerity  of  religion  and  all  other 
faithful  dealings  towards  her  majesty  and  the  realm,  they  had 
had  long  and  true  experience." 

These  letters  said  too  much ;  it  was  not  credible  that  either 
her  majesty  or  her  privy-councillors  should  each  individually 
know  to  be  false  all  the  imputations  thrown  upon  Leicester  in  the 
libels  written  against  him ;  there  was  even  good  reason  to  believe 
that  many  of  them  were  firmly  believed  to  be  well  founded  by 
several,  and  perhaps  most,  of  the  privy-councillors ;  at  all  events, 
nothing  like  exculpatory  evidence  was  brought,  or  attempted  to 
be  brought,  on  the  subject,  consequently,  no  effect  was  produced 
on  public  opinion ;  the  whole  was  regarded  as  an  ex  parte  proceed- 
ing. Philip  Sidney,  who  probably  set  out  with  a  sincere  disbe- 
lief of  these  shocking  accusations  brought  against  an  uncle  who 
had  shown  for  him  an  affection  next  to  parental,  eagerly  took  up 
the  pen  in  his  defence.  But  the  only  point  on  which  his  refuta- 
tion appears  to  have  been  triumphant,  was  unfortunately  one  of 
no  moral  moment, — the  antiquity  and  nobility  of  the  Dudley  fa- 
mily, falsely,  as  it  seems,  impugned  by  the  libeller.  Some  incon- 
sistencies and  contradictions  he  indeed  pointed  out  in  other  mat- 
ters ;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  answer  was  miserably  deficient  in 
every  thing  but  invective,  of  which  there  was  far  too  much ;  and 
either  from  a  gradual  perception  of  the  badness  of  his  cause  or 
the  weakness  of  his  performance,  or  perhaps  for  other  reasons 


324 


THE  COURT  OF 


with  which  we  are  unacquainted,  he  abandoned  his  design ;  and 
the  fragment  never  saw  the  light  till  the  publication  of  the  Sidney 
Papers  about  sixty  years  ago.  But  whatever  might  be  the  private 
judgments  of  men  concerning  the  character  and  conduct  of  the 
earl  of  Leicester,  the  support  of  the  queen,  and  the  strength  of 
the  party  which  the  long  possession  of  power,  and  a  remarkable 
fidelity  in  the  observance  of  his  engagements  towards  his  own  ad- 
herents, had  enabled  him  to  form*  effectually  protected  him  from 
experiencing  any  decline  of  his  political  influence.  Of  this,  a 
proof  appeared  soon  after,  when,  in  consequence  of  further  dis- 
closures of  the  dangerous  designs  of  the  catholics,  a  form  of  as- 
sociation, by  which  the  subscribers  bound  themselves  to  pursue, 
to  the  utmost  of  their  power,  even  to  the  death,  all  who  should 
attempt  any  thing  against  the  queen  in  favour  of  any  pretender 
to  the  crown,  was  drawn  up  by  this  nobleman  and  obtained  the 
signatures  of  all  orders  of  men. 

This  was  a  measure  which  the  queen  of  Scots  perceived  to  be 
aimed  expressly  against  herself,  and  of  which  she  sought  to  di- 
vert the  ill  effects  by  all  the  means  still  within  her  power.  She 
desired  to  be  one  of  the  first  to  whom  the  association  should  be 
offered  for  subscription  ;  and  she  begged  that  this  act  might  form 
the  basis  of  a  treaty  by  which  all  differences  between  herself  and 
Elizabeth  might  be  finally  composed,  and  her  long  captivity  ex- 
changed at  length,  if  not  for  absolute  freedom,  at  least  for  a  state 
of  comparative  independence,  under  articles  guaranteed  by  the 
principal  powers  of  Europe.  These  articles,  far  different  from 
the  former  claims  of  Mary,  appeared  to  Walsingham  so  advan- 
tageous to  his  mistress,  by  the  exemption  which  they  seemed  to 
promise  her  from  future  machinations  on  the  part  of  the  queen  of 
Scots,  that  he  strenuously  urged  their  acceptance ;  but  it  was  in 
vain.  Mutual  injuries,  dissimulation  on  both  sides,  and  causes 
of  jealousy  on  the  part  of  Elizabeth,  from  which  all  her  advan- 
tages over  her  captive  enemy  had  not  served  to  set  her  free,  now, 
as  ever,  opposed  the  conclusion  of  any  terms  of  agreement ;  and 
the  imprudent  and  violent  conduct  of  Mary  served  to  confirm 
Elizabeth  in  her  unrelentingness.  Even  while  the  terms  were 
under  discussion,  a  letter  was  intercepted  addressed  by  the  queen 
of  Scots  to  sir  Francis  Englefield,  an  English  exile  and  pensioner 
in  Spain,  in  which  she  thus  wrote  :  "  Of  the  treaty  between  the 
queen  of  England  and  me,  I  may  neither  hope  nor  look  for  good 
issue.  Whatsoever  shall  become  of  me,  by  whatsoever  change  of 
my  state  and  condition,  let  the  execution  of  the  Great  Plot  go 
forward,  without  any  respect  of  peril  or  danger  to  me.  For  I  will 
account  my  life  very  happily  bestowed,  if  1  may  with  the  same 
help  and  relieve  so  great  a  number  of  the  oppressed  children  of 
the  Church  And  further,  I  pray  you,  use  all  possible  dili- 
gence a  id  endeavour  to  pursue  and  promote,  at  the  pope's  and 
other  ki  ags'  hand,  such  a  speedy  execution  of  their  former  de- 
signments,  that  the  same  may  be  effectuated  some  time  this  next 
spring,''  &c.  It  must  be  confessed,  that  after  such  a  letter,  Mary 
had  little  right  to  complain  of  the  failure  of  these  negotiations. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


325 


fhe  countess  of  Shrewsbury,  now  at  open  variance  with  her  hus- 
band, had  employed  every"  art  to  infuse  into  the  queen  suspi- 
cions of  a  too  great  intimacy  subsisting  between  the  earl  and  his 
prisoner;  and  Elizabeth,  either  from  a  jealousy  which  the  long 
fidelity  of  Shrewsbury  to  his  arduous  trust  was  unable  to  coun- 
teract, or,  as  was  believed,  at  the  instigation  of  some  who  meant 
further  mischief  to  Mary,  ordered  about  this  time  her  removal  to 
the  custody  of  sir  Amias  Paulet  and  sir  Drugo  Drury. 

This  change  filled  the  mind  of  the  captive  queen  with  terror, 
which  prepared  her  to  listen  with  avidity  to  any  schemes,  how- 
ever desperate,  for  her  own  deliverance  and  the  destruction  of 
her  enemy  ;  and  proved  the  prelude  to  that  tragical  catastrophe 
which  was  now  advancing  fast  upon  her. 

A  violent  quarrel  between  Mary  and  the  countess  af  Shrews- 
bury had  naturally  resulted  from  the  conduct  of  this  furious  wo- 
man ;  and  Mary,  whose,  passions,  whether  fierce  or  tender,  easily 
hurried  her  beyond  the  bounds  of  decency  and  of  prudence,  gra- 
tified her  resentment  at  once  against,  the  countess  and  the  queen 
by  addressing  to  Elizabeth  a  letter  which  could  never  be  forgiven 
or  forgotten.  I/i  this  piece,  much  too  gross  for  insertion  in  the 
present  work,  she  professes  to  comply  with  the  request  of  her 
royal  sister,  by  acquainting  her  very  exactly  with  all  the  evil  of 
every  kind  that  the  countess  of  Shrewsbury  had  ever  spoken  of 
her  majesty  in  her  hearing.  She  then  proceeds  to  repeat  or  in- 
vent all  that  the  most  venomous  malice  could  devise  against  the 
character  of  Elizabeth :  as,  that  she  had  conferred  her  favours  on 
a  nameless  person,  (probably  Leicester,)  to  whom  she  had  pro- 
mised marriage  ;  on  the  duke  of  Anjou,  on  Simier,  on  Hatton  and 
others  ;  that  the  latter  was  quite  disgusted  with  her  fondness  ; 
that  she  was  generous  to  none  but  these  favourites,  &c.  That 
her  conceit  of  her  beauty  was  such,  that  no  flattery  could  be  too 
gross  for  her  to  swallow  ;  and  that  this  folly  was  the  theme  of  ri- 
dicule to  all  her  courtiers,  who  would  often  pretend  that  their 
eyes  were  unable  to  sustain  the  radiance  of  her  countenance, — a 
trait,  by  the  way,  which  stands  on  other  and  better  authority  than 
this  infamous  letter.  That  her  temper  was  so  furious  that  it  was 
dreadful  to  attend  upon  her ; — that  she  had  broken  the  finger  of 
one  lady,  and  afterwards  pretended  to  the  courtiers  that  it  was 
done  by  the  fall  of  a  chandelier,  and  that  she  had  cut  another 
across  the  hand  with  a  knife  ; — stories  very  probably  not  entirely 
unfounded  in  fact,  since  we  find  the  earl  of  Huntingdon  com- 
plaining, in  a  letter  still  preserved  in  the  British  Museum,  that 
the  queen,  on  some  quarrel,  had  pinched  his  wife  "very  sorely." 
That  she  interfered  in  an  arbitrary  manner  with  the  marriage  of 
one  of  the  countess  of  Shrewsbury's  daughters,  and  wanted  to 
engross  the  disposal  of  all  the  heiresses  in  the  kingdom; — in  which 
charge  there  was  also  some  truth.  This  insulting  epistle  con- 
cluded with  assurances  of  the  extreme  anxiety  of  the  writer  to  see 
a  good  understanding  restored  between  herself  and  Elizabeth. 

Meantime,  the  most  alarming  manifestations  of  the  inveterate 
hostility  of  the  persecuted  papists  against  the  queen,  continued 


326 


THE  COURT  OF 


to  agitate  the  minds  of  a  people  who  loved  and  honoured  her ; 
and  who  anticipated  with  well  founded  horror  the  succession  ol 
another  Mary,  which  seemed  inevitable  in  the  event  of  her  death. 
A  book  was  written  by  a  Romish  priest,  exhorting  the  female  at- 
tendants of  her  majesty  to  emulate  the  merit  and  glory  of  Judith 
by  inflicting  on  her  the  fate  of  Holophernes.  Dr.  Allen,  after- 
wards cardinal,  published  a  work  to  justify  and  recommend  the 
murder  of  a  heretic  prince ;  and  by  this  piece  a  gentleman  of 
the  name  of  Parry  was  confirmed,  it  is  said,  in  the  black  design 
which  he  had  several  times  revolved  in  his  mind,  but  relinquish- 
ed as  often  from  misgivings  of  conscience. 

In  the  history  of  this  person  there  are  some  circumstances  very 
remarkable.  He  was  a  man  of  considerable  learning,  but,  being 
vicious  and  needy,  had  some  years  before  this  time  committed  a 
robbery,  for  which  he  had  received  the  royal  pardon.  After- 
wards he  went  abroad,  and  was  reconciled  to  the  Romish  church, 
though  employed  at  the  same  time  by  the  ministers  of  Elizabeth 
to  give  intelligence  respecting  the  English  exiles,  whom  he  often 
recommended  to  pardon  or  favour,  and  sometimes  apparently 
with  success.  Returning  home,  he  gained  access  to  the  queen, 
who  admitted  him  to  several  private  interviews ;  and  he  after- 
wards declared,  that  fearing  he  might  be  tempted  to  put  in  act 
the  bloody  purpose  which  perpetually  haunted  his  mind,  he  al- 
ways left  his  dagger  at  home  when  he  went  to  wait  upon  her. 
On  these  occasions  he  apprised  her  majesty  of  the  existence  of 
many  designs  against  her  life,  and  endeavoured,  with  great  ear- 
nestness and  plainness  of  speech,  to  convince  her  of  the  cruelty 
and  impolicy  of  those  laws  against  the  papists  which  had  render- 
ed them  her  deadly  foes  :  but  finding  his  arguments  thrown  away 
upon  the  queen,  he  afterwards  procured  a  seat  in  parliament, 
where  he  was  the  sole  opponent  of  a  severe  act  passed  against 
the  Jesuits.  On  account  of  the  freedom  with  which  he  expressed 
himself  on  this  occasion,  he  was  for  a  few  days  imprisoned. 

Soon  after,  a  gentleman  of  the  family  of  Nevil,  induced,  it  is 
said,  by  the  hope  of  obtaining  as  his  reward  the  honours  and  lands 
of  the  rebel  earl  of  Westmoreland  lately  dead,  disclosed  to  the 
government  a  plot  for  assassinating  the  queen,  in  which  he  af- 
firmed that  Parry  had  engaged  his  concurrence.  Parry  confess- 
ed in  prison  that  he  had  long  deliberated  on  the  means  of  effec- 
tually serving  his  church,  and  it  appeared  that  he  had  come  to 
the  decision  that  the  assassination  of  the  queen's  greatest  sub- 
ject might  be  lawful :  a  letter  was  also  found  upon  him  from  car- 
dinal Como,  expressing  approbation  of  some  design  which  he  had 
communicated  to  him.  On  this  evidence  he  was  capitally  con- 
demned ;  but  to  the  last  he  strongly  denied  that  the  cardinal's 
letter,  couched  in  general  terms,  referred  to  any  attempt  on  the 
queen's  person,  or  that  he  had  ever  entertained  the  design  charg- 
ed upon  him.  Unlike  all  the  other  martyrs  of  popery  at  this  time, 
he  died, — not  avowing  and  glorying  in" the  crime  charged  upon 
him, — but  earnestly  protesting  his  innocence,  his  loyalty,  his 
warm  attachment  to  her  majesty.    An  account  of  his  life  was 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


327 


published  immediately  afterwards  by  the  queen's  printer,  writ- 
ten in  a  style  of  the  utmost  virulence,  and  filled  with  tales  of 
his  monstrous  wickedness  which  have  much  the  air  of  violent 
calumnies. 

Parry  was  well  known  to  lord  Burleigh,  with  whom  he  had 
corresponded  for  several  years  ;  and  the  circumstance  of  his  be- 
ing brought  by  him  to  the  presence  of  the  queen,  proves  that 
this  minister  was  far  from  regarding  him  either  as  the  low,  the 
infamous,  or  the  desperate  wretch,  that  he  is  here  represented. 
That  he  had  sometimes  imagined  the  death  of  the  queen,  he 
seems  to  have  acknowledged  ;  but  most  probably  he  had  never 
so  far  conquered  the  dictates  of  loyalty  and  conscience  as  to 
have  laid  any  plan  for  her  destruction,  or  even  to  have  resolved 
upon  hazarding  the  attempt.  The  case  therefore  was  one  in 
which  mercy  and  even  justice  seem  to  have  required  the  remis- 
sion of  a  harsh  and  hasty  sentence  ;  but  the  panic  terror  which 
had  now  seized  the  queen,  the  ministry,  the  parliament,  and  the 
nation,  would  have  sufficed  to  overpower  tie  pleadings  of  the 
generous  virtues  in  hearts  of  nobler  mould  than  those  of  Eliza- 
beth, of  Leicester,  or  of  Walsingham. 

Nevil,  the  accuser  of  Parry,  far  from  gaining  any  reward,  was 
detained  prisoner  in  the  Tower  certainly  till  the  year  1588,  and 
whether  he  even  then  obtained  his  liberation  iloes  not  appear. 

The  severe  enactments  of  the  new  parliament  against  papists, 
which  included  a  total  prohibition  of  every  exercise  of  the  rites 
of  their  religion,  so  affected  the  mind  of  Philip  Howard  earl  of 
Arundel,  already  exasperated  by  the  personalhardships  to  which 
the  suspicions,  of  her  majesty  and  the  hostility  of  her  ministers 
had  exposed  him,  that  he  formed  the  resolution  of  banishing  him- 
self for  ever  from  his  native  land.  Having  secretly  prepared 
every  thing  for  his  departure,  he  put  his  who  e  case  upon  record 
in  a  letter  addressed  to  her  majesty,  and  left  behind  at  his  house 
in  London.  This  piece  ought,  as  it  appears,  to  have  excited  in 
the  breast  of  his  sovereign  sentiments  of  regret  and  compunction, 
rather  than  of  indignation.  The  writer  complains,  that  without 
any  offence  given  on  his  part,  or  even  objected  against  him  by 
her  majesty,  he  had  long  since  fallen  into  her  disfavour,  as  by 
her  "bitter  speeches''  had  become  publicly  known ;  so  that  he 
was  generally  accounted,  "  nay  in  a  manner  pointed  at,"  as  one 
whom  her  majesty  least  favoured,  and  in  most  disgrace  as  a  person 
whom  she  did  deeply  suspect  and  especially  mislike."  That  after 
he  had  continued  for  some  months  under  this  cloud,  he  had  been 
called  sundry  times  by  her  command  before  the  council,  where 
charges  had  been  brought  against  him,  some  of  them  ridiculously 
trifling,  others  incredible,  all  so  untrue,  that  even  his  greatest 
enemies  could  not,  after  his  answers  were  made,  reproach  him 
with  any  disloyal  thought; — yet  was  he  in  the  end  ordered  to  keep 
his  house.  That  his  enemies  still  continued  to  pursue  him  with 
interrogatories,  and  continued  his  restraint ;  and  that  even  after 
the  last  examination  had  failed  to  produce  any  thing  against  him, 
he  was  still  kept  fifteen  weeks  longer  in  the  same  state,  though 


328 


THE  COURT  OF 


accused  of  nothing.  That  when  either  his  enemies  being  ashamed 
to  pursue  these  proceedings  further,  or  her  majesty  being  pre- 
vailed upon  by  his  friends  to  put  an  end  to  them,  he  had  at  length 
recovered  his  liberty,  he  had  been  led  to  meditate  on  the  fates  of 
his  three  unfortunate  ancestors,  all  circumvented  by  their  enemies, 
and  two  of  them,  (the  earl  of  Surry  his  grandfather  and  the  duke 
of  Norfolk  his  father)  brought  for  slight  causes  to  an  untimelv 
end.  And  having  weighed  their  cases  with  what  had  just  befallen 
himself,  he  concluded  that  it  might  well  be  his  lot  to  succeed 
them  in  fortune  as  in  place.  His  foes  were  strong  to  overthrow, 
he  weak  to  defend  himself,  since  innocence,  he  had  found  was 
no  protection  ;  her  majesty  being  "  easily  drawn  to  an  ill  opinion 
of"  his  "  ancestry ;"  and  moreover,  he  had  been  "  charged  by  the 
council  to  be  of  the  religion  which  was  accounted  odious  and 
dangerous  to  her  estate."  "  Lastly,"  he  adds,  "  but  principally,  I 
weighed  in  what  miserable  doubtful  case  my  soul  had  remained  if 
my  life  had  been  taken,  as  it  was  not  unlikely,  in  my  former  trou- 
bles. For  I  protest,  the  greatest  burden  that  rested  on  my  con- 
science at  that  time  was,  because  I  had  not  lived  according  to 
the  prescript  ruleof  that  which  I  undoubtedly  believed,"  &c. 

The  earl  had  actually  embarked  at  a  small  port  in  Sussex, 
when,  his  project  having  been  betrayed  to  the  government  by 
the  mercenary  vil  ainy  of  the  master  of  the  vessel  and  of  one  of 
his  own  servants,  orders  were  issued  for  his  detention,  and  he 
was  brought  back  n  custody  and  committed  to  the  Tower.  The 
letter  just  quotec  was  then  produced  against  him  ;  it  was  de- 
clared to  reflect  cn  the  justice  of  the  country  ;  and  for  the  dou- 
ble offence  of  having  written  it  and  of  attempting  to  quit  the 
kingdom  without  icense,  he  underwent  a  long  imprisonment, 
and  was  aribtraril/  sentenced  to  a  fine  of  one  thousand  pounds, 
which  he  proved  bis  inability  to  pay.  The  barbarous  tyranny 
which  held  his  body  in  thraldom,  served  at  the  same  time  to  rivet 
more  strongly  upon  his  mind  the  fetters  of  that  stern  supersti- 
tion which  had  gained  dominion  over  him.  The  more  he  endured 
for  his  •religion,  tie  more  awful  and  important  did  it  appear  in 
his  eyes ;  while  in  proportion  to  the  severity  and  tediousness  of 
his  suffering  from  without,  the  scenery  within  became  continu- 
ally more  cheerless  and  terrific ;  and  learning  to  dread  in  a  fu- 
ture world  the  prolonged  operation  of  that  principle  of  cruelty 
under  which  he  groaned  in  this,  he  sought  to  avert  its  everlasting 
action  by  practising  upon  himself  the  expiatory  rigours  of  asce- 
ticism. The  sequel  of  his  melancholy  history  we  shall  have  oc- 
casion to  contemplate  hereafter 

Thomas  Percy  earl  of  Northumberland,  brother  to  that  earl 
who  had  suffered  death  on  account  of  the  Northern  rebellion,—- 
by  his  participation  in  which  he  had  himself  also  incurred  a  fine, 
though  afterwards  remitted, — was  naturally  exposed  at  this 
juncture  to  vehement  suspicions.  After  some  examinations  be- 
fore the  council,  cause  was  found  for  his  committal  to  the  Tower; 
and  here,  according  to  the  iniquitous  practice  of  the  age,  he  re- 
mained for  a  considerable  time  without  being  brought  to  trial.  At 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


length  the  public  Was  informed  that  another  prisoner  on  a  like 
account  having  been  put  to  the  torture  to  force  disclosures,  had 
revealed  matters  against  the  earl  of  Northumberland  amounting 
to  treason,  on  which  account  he  had  thought  lit  to  anticipate  the 
sentence  of  the  law  by  shooting  himself  through  the  heart.  That 
the  earl  was  really  the  author  of  his  own  death  was  indeed  pro- 
ved before  a  coroner's  jury  by  abundant  and  unexceptionable  tes- 
timony, as  well  as  by  his  deliberate  precautions  for  making  his 
lands  descend  to  his  son,  and  his  indignant  declaration  that  the 
queen,  on  whom  he  bestowed  a  most  opprobrious  epithet,  should 
never  have  his  estate;  though  it  may  still  bear  a  doubt  whether  a 
consciousness  of  guilt,  despair  of  obtaining  justice,  or  merely  the 
misery  of  an  indefinite  captivity,  were  the  motive  of  the  rash  act; 
but  the  catholics,  actuated  by  the  true  spirit  of  party,  added  with- 
out scruple  the  death  of  this  nobleman  to  the  "  foul  and  midnight 
murders"  perpetrated  within  these  gloomy  walls. 

Meantime  the  opposition  to  popery,  which  had  now  become  the 
reigning  principle  of  English  policy,  was  to  be  maintained  on 
other  ground,  and  with  other  weapons  than  those  with  which  an 
inquisitorial  high-commission,  or  a  fierce  system  of  penal  enact- 
ments, had  armed  the  hands  of  religious  intolerance,  political 
jealousy,  or  private  animosity ;  and  all  the  more  generous  and 
adventurous  spirits  prepared  with  alacrity  to  draw  the  sword  in 
the  noble  cause  of  Belgian  independence,  against  the  united  ty- 
ranny and  bigotry  of  the  detestable  Philip  II. 

The  death  of  that  patriot  hero,  William  prince  of  Orange,  by 
the  hand  of  a  fanatical  assassin,  had  plunged  his  country  in  dis- 
tress and  dismay,  and  the  States  General  had  again  made  an 
earnest  tender  of  their  sovereignty  to  Elizabeth.  She  once  more 
declined  it,  from  the  same  motives  of  caution  and  anxiety  to  avoid 
the  imputation  of  ambitious  encroachment  on  the  rights  of  neigh- 
bouring princes,  which  had  formerly  determined  her.  But  more 
than  ever  aware  how  closely  her  own  safety  and  welfare  were 
connected  with  the  successful  resistance  of  these  provinces,  she 
now  consented  to  send  over  an  army  to  their  succour,  and  to 
grant  them  supplies  of  money  ;  in  consideration  of  which  several 
cautionary  towns  were  put  into  her  hands.  Of  these,  Flushing 
was  one  ;  and  Elizabeth  gratified  at  once  the  protestant  zeal  of 
Philip  Sidney  and  his  aspirations  after  military  glory,  by  ap- 
pointing him  its  governor.  It  was  in  November  1585,  that  he 
took  possession  of  his  charge^ 

Meanwhile  the  earl  of  Leicester,  whose  haughty  and  grasping 
spirit  led  him  to  covet  distinction  and  authority  in  every  line, 
was  eagerly  soliciting  the  supreme  command  of  this  important 
armament ;  and  in  spite  of  the  general  mediocrity  of  his  talents 
and  his  very  slight  experience  in  the  art  of  war,  his  partial  mis- 
tress had  the  weakness  to  indulge  him  in  this  unreasonable  and 
ill-advised  pretension.  The  title  of  general  of  the  queen's  aux- 
iliaries in  Holland  was  conferred  upon  him,  and  with  it  a  com- 
mand over  the  whole  English  navy  paramount  to  that  of  the  lord- 
high-admiral  himself. 

Tt 


330 


THE  COURT  OF 


He  landed  at  Flushing,  and  was  received  first  by  its  governor' 
and  afterwards  by  the  States  of  Holland  and  Zealand  with  the 
highest  honours,  and  with  the  most  magnificent  festivities  which 
it  was  in  their  power  to  exhibit.  A  splendid  band  of  youthful 
nobility  followed  in  his  train  : — the  foremost  of  them  all  was  his 
stepson  Robert  earl  of  Essex,  now  in  his  19th  year,  who  had 
already  made  his  appearance  at  court,  and  experienced  from  hei 
majesty  a  reception  which  clearly  prognosticated,  to  such  as 
were  conversant  in  the  ways  of  the  court,  the  height  of  favour 
to  which  he  was  predestined. 

It  was  highly  characteristic  of  the  jealous  haughtiness  of  Eli- 
zabeth's temper,  that  the  extraordinary  honours  lavished  by  the 
States  upon  Leicester  instantly  awakened  her  utmost  indigna- 
tion. She  regarded  them  as  too  high  for  any  subject,  even  for 
him  who  enjoyed  the  first  place  in  her  royal  favour,  whom  she 
had  invested  with  an  amplitude  of  authority  quite  unexampled, 
and  who  represented  herself  in  the  council  of  the  States -general. 
She  expressed  her  anger  in  a  tone  which  made  both  Leicester  and 
the  Belgians  tremble ;  and  the  explanations  and  humble  submis- 
sions of  both  parties  were  found  scarcely  sufficient  to  appease 
her.  At  the  same  time  the  incapacity  and  misconduct  of  Lei- 
cester  as  a  commander  were  daily  becoming  more  conspicuous 
and  offensive  in  the  eyes  of  the  Dutch  authorities  ;  and  the  most 
serious  evils  would  immediately  have  ensued,  but  for  the  pru- 
dence, the  magnanimity,  the  conciliating  behaviour,  and  the  stre- 
nuous exertions,  by  which  his  admirable  nephew  laboured  unceas- 
ingly to  remedy  his  vices  and  cover  his  deficiencies. 

The  brilliant  valour  of  the  English  troops,  and  particularly  of 
the  young  nobility  and  gentry  who  led  them  on,  was  conspicu- 
ous in  every  encounter  ;  but  the  want  of  a  chief  able  to  cope  with 
that  accomplished  general  the  prince  of  Parma,  precluded  them 
from  effecting  any  important  object.  Philip  Sidney  distinguish  - 
ed himself  by  a  well  conducted  surprise  of  the  town  of  Axel, 
and  received  in  reward  among  a  number  of  others,  the  honour  of 
knighthood  from  the  hands  of  his  uncle.  Afterwards,  having 
made  an  attack  with  the  horse  under  his  command  on  a  rein- 
forcement which  the  enemy  was  attempting  to  throw  into  Zut- 
phen,  a  hot  action  ensued,  in  which  though  the  advantage  re- 
mained with  the  English,  it  was  dearly  purchased  by  the  blood  of 
their  gallant  leader,  who  received  a  shot  above  the  knee,  which 
after  sixteen  days  of  acute  suffering  brought  his  valuable  life  to 
its  termination. 

Thus  perished  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-two,  sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney, the  pride  and  pattern  of  his  time,,  the  theme  of  song,  the 
favourite  of  English  story.  The  beautiful  anecdote  of  his  re- 
signing to  the  dving  soldier  the  draught  of  water  with  which  he 
was  about  to  quench  his  thirst  as  he  rode  faint  and  bleeding 
from  the  fatal  field,  is  told  to  every  child.,  and  inspires  a  love 
and  revere  nce  for  his  name  which  never  ceases  to  cling  about 
the  hearts  of  his  countrymen.  He  is  regarded  as  the  most  per- 
fect example  which  English  history  affords  of  the  preux  Cheva- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


331 


tier;  and  is  named  in  parallel  with  the  spotless  and  fearless 
Bayard,  the  glory  of  Frenchmen,  whom  he  excelled  in  all  the 
accomplishments  of  peace  as  much  as  the  other  exceeded  him  in 
the  number  and  splendour  of  his  military  achievements. 

The  demonstrations  of  grief  for  his  loss,  and  the  honours  paid 
tq  his  memory,  went  far  beyond  all  former  example,  and  appear- 
ed to  exceed  what  belonged  to  a  private  citizen.  The  court 
went  into  mourning  for  him,  and  his  remains  received  a  magni- 
ficent funeral  in  St.  Paul's,  the  United  Provinces  having  in  vain 
requested  permission  to  inter  him  at  their  own  expense,  with 
the  promise  that  he  should  have  as  fair  a  tomb  as  any  prince  in 
Christendom.  Elizabeth  always  remembered  him  with  affection 
and  regret.  Cambridge  and  Oxford  published  three  volumes  of 
*'  Lachrymse"  on  the  melancholy  event.  Spenser  in  verse,  and 
Camden  in  prose,  commemorated  and  deplored  their  friend  and 
patron.  A  crowd  of  humbler  contemporaries  pressed  emulously 
forward  to  offer  up  their  mite  of  panegyric  and  lamentation; 
and  it  would  be  endless  to  enumerate  the  poets  and  other  wri- 
ters of  later  times,  who  have  celebrated  in  various  forms  the  name 
of  Sidney.  Foreigners  of  the  highest  distinction  claimed  a  share 
in  the  general  sentiment.  Du  Plessis  Mornay  condoled  with 
Walsingham  on  the  loss  of  his  incomparable  son-in-law  in  terms 
of  the  deepest  sorrow.  Count  Hohenlo  passionately  bewailed 
his  friend  and  fellow-soldier,  to  whose  representations  and  in- 
tercessions he  had  sacrificed  his  just  indignation  against  the  pro- 
ceedings of  Leicester.  Even  the  hard  heart  of  Philip  IL  was 
touched  by  the  untimely  fate  of  his  godson,  though  slain  in  bear- 
ing arms  against  him. 

We  are  told  that  on  the  next  tilt-day  after  the  last  wife  of 
the  earl  of  Leicester  had  borne  him  a  son,  Sidney  appeared  with 
a  shield  on  which  was  the  word  "  Speravi"  dashed  through.  This 
anecdote, — if  indeed  the  allusion  of  the  motto  be  rightly  explain- 
ed, which  it  is  difficult  to  believe, — would  serve  to  show  how 
publicly  he  had  been  regarded,  both  by  himself  and  others,  as 
the  heir  of  his  all-powerful  uncle.  The  death  of  this  child,  on 
which  occasion  adulatory  verses  were  produced  by  the  univer- 
sity of  Cambridge,  restored  Sidney,  the  year  before  his  death,  to 
this  brilliant  expectancy;  and  it  cannot  reasonably  be  doubted, 
that  the  academic  honours  paid  to  his  memory  were,  like  the 
court-mourning,  a  homage  to  the  power  of  the  living  rather  than 
the  virtues  of  the  dead.  But  though  he  should  be  judged  to  have 
owed  to  his  connexion  with  a  royal  favourite  much  of  his  con- 
temporary celebrity,  and  even  in  some  measure  his  enduring 
fame,  no  candid  estimator  will  suffer  himself  to  be  hurried,  un- 
der an  idea  of  correcting  the  former  partiality  of  fortune,  into 
the  clear  injustice  of  denying  to  this  accomplished  character  a 
just  title  to  the  esteem  and  admiration  of  posterity.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  will  be  considered,  that  the  very  circumstances  which 
rendered  him  so  early  conspicuous,  would  also  expose  him  to  the 
shafts  of  malice  and  envy ;  and  that  if  his  spirit  had  not  been  in 
reality  noble,  and  his  conduct  irreproachable,  it  would  have  ex- 


'332 


THE  COURT  O* 


ceeded  all  the  power  of  Leicester  to  shield  the  reputation  of  his 
nephew  against  attacks  similar  to  those  from  which  he  had  found 
it  impracticable  to  defend  his  own. 

Philip  Sidney  was  educated,  by  the  cares  of  a  wise  and  excel- 
lent father,  in  the  purest  and  most  elevated  moral  principles  and 
in  the  best  learning  of  the  age.  A  letter  of  advice  addressed  to 
him  by  this  exemplary  parent  at  the  age  of  twelve,  fully  exem- 
plifies both  the  laudable  solicitude  of  sir  Henry  respecting  his 
future  character,  and  the  soundness  of  his  views  and  maxims  : 
in  the  character  of  his  son,  as  advancing  to  manhood,  he  saw 
his  hopes  exceeded  and  his  prayers  fulfilled.  Nothing  could  be 
more  correct  than  his  conduct,  more  laudable  than  his  pursuits, 
while  on  his  travels  ;  young  as  he  was,  he  merited  the  friendship 
of  Hubert  Languet.  He  also  gained  just  and  high  reputation  for 
the  manner  in  which  he  acquitted  himself  of  an  embassy  to  the 
protestant  princes  of  Germany,  though  somewhat  of  the  osten- 
tation and  family  pride  of  a  Dudley  was  apparent  in  the  port 
which  he  thought  it  necessary  to  assume  on  the  occasion.  After 
his  return,  he  commenced  the  life  of  a  courtier;  and  that  indis- 
criminate thirst  for  glory  which  was  in  some  measure  the  foible 
of  his  character,  led  him  into  an  ostentatious  profusion,  which, 
by  involving  his  affairs,  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  solicit 
the  pecuniary  lavours  of  her  majesty,  and  to  earn  them  by  some 
acts  of  adulation  unworthy  of  his  spirit :  for  all  these,  however, 
he  made  large  amends  by  his  noble  letter  against  the  French 
marriage.  He  afterwards  took  up,  with  a  zeal  and  ability  highly 
honourable  to  his  heart  and  his  head,  the  defence  of  his  father, 
accused,  but  finally  acquitted,  of  some  stretches  of  power  as 
lord-deputy  of  Ireland,  This  business  involved  him  in  disputes 
which  the  earl  of  Ormond,  his  father's  enemy,  who  seems  to 
have  generously  overlooked  provocations  which  might  have  led  to 
more  serious  consequences,  in  consideration  of  the  filial  feelings 
of  his  youthful  adversary. 

These  indications  of  a  bold  and  forward  spirit  appear  however 
to  have  somewhat  injured  him  in  the  mind  of  her  majesty  ;  his 
advancement  by  no  means  kept  pace  either  with  his  wishes  or 
his  wants ;  and  a  subsequent  quarrel  with  the  earl  of  Oxford, — 
in  which  he  refused  to  make  the  concessions  required  by  the 
queen,  reminding  her  at  the  same  time  that  it  had  been  her  fa- 
ther's policy,  and  ought  to  be  hers,  rather  to  countenance  the 
gentry  against  the  arrogance  of  the  great  nobles  than  the  con- 
trary,— sent  him  in  disgust  from  court.  Retiring  to  Wilton,  the 
seat  of  his  brother-in-law  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  he  composed 
the  Arcadia.  This  work  he  never  revised  or  completed  ;  it  was 
published  after  his  death,  probably  contrary  to  his  orders  ;  and 
it  is  of  a  kind  long  since  obsolete.  Under  all  these  disadvan- 
tages, however,  though  faulty  in  plan  and  as  a  whole  tedious, 
this  romance  has  been  found  to  exhibit  extensive  learning,  a 
poetical  cast  of  imagination,  nice  discrimination  of  character, 
and,  what  is  far  more,  a  fervour  of  eloquence  in  the  cause  of  vir- 
tue, a  heroism  of  sentiment  and  purity  of  thought,  which  stamp 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH 


333 


it  for  the  offspring  of  a  noble  mind, — which  evince  that  the  work- 
man was  superior  to  his  work. 

But  the  world  re-absorded  him  ;  and  baffled  at  court,  he  me- 
ditated, in  correspondence  with  one  of  his  favourite  mottos, — 
W  Aut  viam  inveniam  out  faciam.'9 — to  join  one  of  the  almost  pi- 
ratical expeditions  of  Drake  against  the  Spanish  settlements. 
Perhaps  he  might  then  be  diverted  from  his  design  by  the  strong 
and  kind  warning  of  his  true  friend  Languet,  "  to  beware  lest  the 
thirst  of  lucre  should  creep  into  a  mind  which  had  hitherto  ad- 
mitted nothing  but  the  love  of  truth  and  an  anxiety  to  deserve 
well  of  all  men."  After  the  death  of  this  monitor,  however,  he 
engaged  in  a  second  scheme  of  this  very  questionable  nature,  and 
was  only  prevented  from  embarking  by  the  arrival  of  the  queen's 
peremptory  orders  for  his  return  to  court  and  that  of  Fulke  Gre- 
ville  who  accompanied  him. 

It  would  certainly  be  difficult  to  defend  in  point  of  dignity  and 
consistency  his  conspicuous  appearance,  as  formerly  recorded, 
at  the  triumph  held  in  honour  of  the  French  embassy,  or  his  at- 
tendance upon  the  duke  of  Anjou  on  his  return  to  the  Nether- 
lands. 

The  story  of  his  nomination  to  the  throne  of  Poland  deserves 
little  regard; it  is  certain  that  such  an  elevation  was  never  with- 
in his  possibilities  of  attainment.  His  reputation  on  the  conti- 
nent was  however  extremely  high  ;  Don  John  of  Austria  himself 
esteemed  him ;  the  great  prince  of  Orange  corresponded  with 
him  as  a  real  friend ;  and  Du  Plessis  Mornay  solicited  his  good 
offices  on  behalf  of  the  French  protestants.  Nothing  but  the 
highest  praise  is  due  to  his  conduct  in  Holland  ;  to  the  valour 
of  a  knight-errant  he  added  the  best  virtues  of  a  commander  and 
counsellor.  Leicester  himself  apprehended  that  it  would  be 
.scarcely  possible  for  him  to  sustain  his  high  post  without  the 
countenance  and  assistance  of  his  beloved  nephew;  and  the  event 
showed  that  he  was  right. 

His  death  was  worthy  of  the  best  parts  of  his  life ;  he  showed 
himself  to  the  last  devout,  courageous,  and  serence.  His  wife, 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  Walsingham  ;  his  brother  Robert,  to 
whom  he  had  performed  the  part  rather  of  an  anxious  and  indul- 
gent parent  than  of  a  brother  ;  and  many  sorrowing  friends  sur- 
rounded his  bed.  Their  grief  was  beyond  a  doubt  sincere  and 
poignant,  as  well  as  that  of  the  many  persons  of  letters  and  of 
worth  who  gloried  in  his  friendship  and  flourished  by  his  boun 
tiful  patronage. 

On  the  whole,  though  justice  claims  the  admission  that  the 
character  of  Sidney  was  not  entirely  free  from  the  faults  most 
incident  to  his  age  and  station,  and  that  neither  as  a  writer,  a 
scholar,  a  soldier,  or  a  statesman, — in  all  which  characters  du- 
ring the  course  of  his  short  life  he  appeared,  and  appeared  with 
distinction, — is  he  yet  entitled  to  the  highest  rank  ;  it  may  how- 
ever be  firmly  maintained  that,  as  a  man,  an  accomplished  and 
high-souled  man,  he  had  among  his  contemporary  countrymen 
neither  equal  nor  competitor.    Such  was  the  verdict  in  his  own 


334 


THE  COURT  OF 


times  not  of  flatterers  only,  or  friends,  but  of  England,  of  Eu- 
rope ;  such  is  the  title  of  merit  under  which  the  historian  may 
enroll  him,  with  confidence  and  with  complacency,  among  the 
illustrious  few  whose  name  and  example  still  serve  to  kindle 
in  the  bosom  of  youth  the  animating  glow  of  virtuous  emulation. 

Leicester  never  appears  in  an  amiable  light  except  in  con- 
nexion with  his  nephew,  for  whom  his  affection  was  not  only  sin- 
cere but  ardent.  A  few  extracts  from  a  letter  written  by  him  to 
sir  Thomas  Hteneage,  captain  of  the  queen's  guards,  giving  an 
account  of  the  action  in  which  Sidney  received  his  mortal  wound, 
will  illustrate  this  remark,  while  it  records  the  gallant  exploits 
of  several  of  his  companions  in  arms. 

After  relating  that  sir  Philip  had  gone  out  with  a  party  to  in- 
tercept a  convoy  of  the  enemy's,  he  adds,  "  Many  of  our  horses 
were  hurt  and  killed,  among  which  was  my  nephew's  own.  He 
went  and  changed  to  another,  and  would  needs  to  the  charge 
again,  and  once  passed  those  musqueteers,  where  he  received  a 
sore  wound  upon  his  thigh,  three  fingers  above  his  knee,  the  bone 
broken  quite  in  pieces  ;  but  for  which  chance, .  God  did  send 
such  a  day  as  I  think  was  never  many  years  seen,  so  few  against 
so  many."    The  earl  then  enumerates  the  other  commanders 
and  distinguished  persons  engaged  in  the  action.    Colonel  Nor- 
ris,  the  earl  of  Essex,  sir  Thomas  Perrot ;  "  and  my  unfortunate 
Philip,  with  sir  William  Russell,  and  divers  gentlemen  ;  and  not 
one  hurt  but  only  my  nephew.    They  killed  four  of  their  ene- 
my's chief  leaders,  and  carried  the  valiant  count  Hannibal  Gon- 
zaga  away  with  them  upon  a  horse ;  also  took  captain  George 
Cressier,  the  principal  soldier  of  the  camp,  and  captain  of  all 
the  Albanese.    My  lord  Willoughby  overthrew  him  at  the  first 
encounter,  man  and  horse.    The  gentleman  did  acknowledge  it 
himself.    There  is  not  a  properer  gentleman  in  the  world  to 
wards  than  this  lord  Willoughby  is :  but  I  can  hardly  praise  one 
more  than  another,  they  all  did  so  well ;  yet  every  one  had  his 
horse  killed  or  hurt.    And  it  was  thought  very  strange  that  sir 
William  Stanley  with  three  hundred  of  his  men  should  pass,  in 
spite  of  so  many  musquets,  such  troops  of  horse  three  several 
times,  making  them  remove  their  ground,  and  to  return  with  no 
more  loss  than  he  did.    Albeit,  I  must  say  it,  it  was  too  much 
loss  for  me  ;  for  this  young  man,  he  was  my  greatest  comfort, 
next  her  majesty,  of  all  the  world  ;  and  if  I  could  buy  his  life 
with  all  I  have,  to  my  shirt,  I  would  give  it.  How  God  will  dis 
pose  of  him  I  know  not,  but  fear  I  must  needs,  greatly,  the 
worst ;  the  blow  in  so  dangerous  a  place  and  so  great ;  yet  did  I 
never  hear  of  any  man  that  did  abide  the  dressing  and  setting  of 
his  bones  better  than  he  did  ;  and  he  was  carried  afterwards  in 
my  barge  to  Arnheim,and  I  hear  this  day,  his  is  still  of  good  heart  , 
and  comforteth  all  about  him  as  much  as  may  be.    God  of  his 
mercy  grant  me  his  life  !  which  I  cannot  but  doubt  of  greatly.  I 
was  abroad  that  time  in  the  field  giving  some  order  to  supply 
that  business,  which  did  endure  almost  two  hours  in  continual 
fight ;  and  meeting  Philip  coming  upon  his  horseback,  not  a  little 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


335 


/o  my  grief.  But  I  would  you  had  stood  by  to  hear  his  most 
loyal  speeches  to  her  majesty ;  his  constant  mind  to  the  cause  ; 
his  loving  care  over  me,  and  his  most  resolute  determination  for 
death,  not  one  jot  appalled  for  his  blow  ;  which  is  the  most  griev- 
ous I  ever  saw  with  such  a  bullet ;  riding  so  a  long  mile  and  a 
half  upon  his  horse,  ere  he  came  to  the  camp ;  not  ceasing  to 
speak  still  of  her  majesty,  being  glad  if  his  hurt  and  death  might 
any  way  honour  her  majesty,  for  hers  he  was  whilst  he  lived, 
and  God's  he  was  sure  to  be  if  he  died.  Prayed  all  men  to  think 
the  cause  was  as  well  her  majesty's  as  the  country's ;  and  not 
to  be  discouraged  ;  for  you  have  seen  such  success  as  may  en- 
courage us  all ;  and  this  my  hurt  is  the  ordinance  of  God  by  the 
hap  of  the  war.  Well,  I  pray  God,  if  it  be  his  will,  save  me  his 
life ;  even  as  well  for  her  majesty's  service  sake,  as  for  mine  own 
comfort."* 

Sir  Henry  Sidney  was  spared  the  anguish  of  following  such  a 
son  to  the  grave,  having  himself  quitted  the  scene  a  few  months 
before.  It  was  in  1578,  that  he  received  orders  to  resign  the 
government  of  Ireland,  having  become  obnoxious  to  the  gentle- 
men of  the  English  pale  by  his  rigour  in  levying  certain  assess- 
ments for  the  maintenance  of  troops  and  the  expenses  of  his  own 
household,  which  they  affirmed  to  be  illegally  imposed.  There 
is  every  reason  to  believe  that  their  complaint  was  well  found- 
ed ;  but  Elizabeth,  refusing  as  usual  to  allow  her  prerogative  to 
be  touched,  imprisoned  several  Irish  lawyers,  who  came  to  Eng- 
land to  appeal  against  the  tax;  and  sir  Henry,  being  able  to  prove 
that  he  had  royal  warrant  for  what  he  had  done,  was  finally  ex- 
onerated by  the  privy-council  from  all  the  charges  which  had 
been  preferred  against  him,  and  retained  to  the  last  his  office  of 
lord-president  of  Wales. 

The  sound  judgment  of  sir  Henry  Sidney  taught  him,  that  his 
near  connexion  with  the  earl  of  Leicester  had  its  dangers  as 
well  as  its  advantages ;  and  observing  the  turn  for  show  and  ex- 
pense with  which  it  served  to  inspire  the  younger  members  of 
his  family,  he  would  frequently  enjoin  them  "to  consider  more 
whose  sons  than  whose  nephews  they  were."  In  fact,  he  was  not 
able  to  lay  up  fortunes  for  them  ; — the  offices  he  held  were  higher 
in  dignity  than  emolument ;  his  spirit  was  noble  and  munificent; 
and  the  following,  among  other  anecdotes,  may  serve  to  showr 
that  he  himself  was  not  averse  to  a  certain  degree  of  parade  ;  at 
least  on  particular  occasions.  The  queen,  standing  once  at  a 
window  of  her  palace  at  Hampton-court,  saw  a  gentleman  ap- 
proach escorted  by  two  hundred  attendants  on  horseback ;  and 
turning  to  her  courtiers,  she  asked  with  some  surprise,  who  this 
might  be  ?  But  on  being  informed  that  it  was  sir  Henry  Sidney, 
her  lord  deputy  of  Ireland  and  president  of  Wales,  she  answer- 
ed, "  And  he  may  well  do  it,  for  he  has  two  of  the  best  officers  in 
my  kingdom." 

The  following  letter,  addressed  to  sir  Henry  as  lord-president 
of  AVales,  discloses  an  additional  trait  of  his  character,  which 

*  "  Sidney  Papers  " 


33G  THE  COURT  OF 

cannot  fail  to  recommend  him  still  more  to  the  esteem  of  a  hu- 
mane and  enlightened  age  ; — his  reluctance,  namely,  to  lend  his 
concurrence  to  the  measures  of  religious  persecution  which  the 
queen  and  her  bishops  now  urged  upon  all  persons  in  authority 
as  their  incumbent  duty. 

Sir  Francis  Walsingham  to  sir  H.  Sidney,  lord-president 

of  Wales. 

"  My  very  good  lord  : 

"  My  lords  of  late  calling  here  to  remembrance  the  commission 
that  was  more  than  a  year  ago  given  out  to  your  lordship,  and 
certain  others  for  the  reformation  of  the  rescusants  and  obstinate 
persons  in  religion,  within  Wales  and  the  marches  thereof,  mar- 
velled very  much  that  in  all  this  time  they  have  heard  of  nothing 
done  by  you  and  the  rest ;  and  truly,  my  lord,  the  necessity  of 
this  time  requiring  so  greatly  to  have  these  kind  of  men  dili- 
gently and  sharply  proceeded  against,  there  will  here  a  very  hard 
construction  be  made,  I  fear  me,  of  you,  to  retain  with  you  the 
said  commission  so  long,  doing  no  good  therein.  Of  late  now  I 
received  your  lordship's  letter  touching  such  persons  as  you 
think  meet  to  have  the  custody  and  oversight  of  Montgomery 
Castle,  by  which  it  appeareth  you  have  begun,  in  your  present 
journeys  in  Wales,  to  do  somewhat  in  causes  of  religion ;  but 
having  a  special  commission  for  that  purpose,  in  which  are  named 
special,  and  very  apt  persons  to  join  with  you  in  those  matters,  it 
will  be  thought  strange  to  my  lords  to  hear  of  your  proceeding  in 
those  causes  without  their  assistance ;  and,  therefore,  to  the  end 
their  lordships  should  conceive  no  otherwise  than  well  of  your 
dealing  without  them,  I  have  forborne  to  acquaint  them  with  our 
late  letter,  wishing  your  lordship,  for  the  better  handling  and 
success  of  those  matters  in  religion,  you  called  unto  you  the  bishop 
of  Worcester,  Mr.  Philips,  and  certain  others  specially  named  in 
the  commission.  They  will,  I  am  sure,  be  glad  to  wait  on  you 
in  so  good  a  service,  and  your  proceeding  together  with  them  in 
these  matters  will  be  better  allowed  of  here,  &c. 

"  P.  S.  Your  lordship  had  need  to  walk  warily,  for  your  doings 
are  narrowly  observed,  and  her  majesty  is  apt  to  give  ear  to  any 
that  shall  ill  you.  Great  hold  is  taken  by  your  enemies  for  ne- 
glecting the  execution  of  this  commission. 

"  Oatlands,  August  9th,  1580."* 

Leicester,  soon  after  the  death  of  his  nephew,  placed  his  army 
in  winter-quarters,  having  effected  no  one  object  of  importance. 
The  States  remonstrated  with  him  in  strong  terms  on  the  various 
and  grievous  abuses  of  his  administration ;  he  answered  them  in 
the  tone  of  graciousness  and  conciliation  which  it  suited  his  pur- 
pose to  assume  ;  and  publicly  surrendering  up  to  them  the  whole 
apparent  authority  of  the  provinces,  whilst,  by  a  secret  act  of  re- 


*  Sidnev  Papers,       !.  j>.  2~6. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


337 


striction,  he  in  fact  retained  for  himself  full  command  over  all 
the  governors  of  towns  and  provinces,  he  set  sail  for  England. 

Enzabeth  received  her  favourite  with  her  usual  complacency, 
either  because  his  abject  submissions  had  in  reality  succeeded  in 
banishing  from  her  mind  all  resentment  of  his  conduct  in  Hol- 
land, or  because  she  required  the  support  of  his  long-tried  coun- 
sels under  the  awful  responsibilities  of  that  impending  conflict 
with  the  whole  collected  force  of  the  Spanish  monarchy  for  which 
^he  felt  herself  summoned  to  prepare.  The  king  of  Denmark, 
;wonished  to  behold  a  princess  of  Elizabeth's  experienced  caution 
involving  herself  with  seeming  indifference  in  peril  so  great  and 
so  apparent,  exclaimed,  that  she  had  now  taken  the  diadem  from 
her  brow  to  place  it  on  the  doubtful  cast  of  war ;  and  trembling 
for  the  fate  of  his  friend  and  ally,  he  dispatched  an  ambassador  in 
haste  to  offer  her  his  mediation  for  the  adjustment  of  all  differ- 
ences arising  out  of  the  revolt  of  the  Netherlands.  But  Eliza- 
beth firmly,  though  with  thanks,  declined  all  overtures  towards  a 
reconciliation  with  a  sovereign  whom  she  now  recognised  as  her 
implacable  and  determined  foe. 

She  was  far,  however,  from  despising  the  danger  which  she 
braved  ;  and  with  a  prudence  and  diligence  equal  to  her  forti- 
tude, she  had  begun  to  assemble  and  put  in  action  all  her  means, 
internal  and  external,  of  defence  and  annoyance.  She  linked 
herself  still  more  closely,  by  benefits  and  promises,  with  the  prince 
of  Condc,  chief  of  the  Hugonots  now  in  arms  against  the  League, 
or  Catholic  association,  formed  in  France  under  the  auspices  of 
the  king  of  Spain.  With  the  king  of  Scots  also  she  entered  into 
an  intimate  alliance ;  and  she  had  previously  secured  the  friend- 
ship of  all  the  protestant  princes  of  Germany  and  the  northern 
powers  of  Europe.  She  now  openly  avowed  the  enterprises  of 
Drake,  which  she  had  hitherto  only  encouraged  underhand,  or  on 
certain  pretexts  of  retaliation  ;  and  she  sent  him  with  a  fleet  of 
twenty-one  ships,  carrying  above  eleven  thousand  soldiers,  to 
make  war  upon  the  Spanish  settlements  in  the  West  Indies. 

But  if  all  these  measures  seemed  likely  to  afford  her  kingdom 
sufficient  means  of  protection  against  the  attacks  of  a  foreign 
enemy,  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  regard  her  own  person  as  equally 
well  secured  against  the  dark  conspiracies  of  her  catholic  sub- 
jects, instigated  as  they  were  by  the  sanguinary  maxims  of  the 
Roman  see,  fostered  by  the  atrocious  activity  of  the  emissaries 
of  Philip,  and  sanctioned  by  the  authority  of  the  queen  of  Scots, 
to  whom  homage  was  rendered  by  her  party  as  rightful  sovereign 
of  the  British  isles. 

During  the  festival  of  Easter,  1586,  some  English  priests  of 
the  seminary  at  Rheims  had  encouraged  a  fanatical  soldier  named 
Savage  to  vow  the  death  of  the  queen.  About  the  same  time, 
Ballard,  also  a  priest  of  this  seminary,  was  concerting  in  France, 
with  Mendoca  and  the  fugitive  lord  Paget,  the  means  of  procur- 
ing an  invasion  of  the  country  during  the  absence  of  Us  best  troops 
in  Flanders.  Repairing  to  England,  Ballard  communicated  both 
these  schemes  to  Anthony  Babington,  a  gentleman  who  had  been 


338 


THE  COURT  OF 


gained  over  on  a  visit  to  France  by  the  bishop  of  Glasgow,  Mary's 
ambassador  there,  and  whose  vehement  attachment  to  her  cause 
had  rendered  him  capable  of  any  enterprise,  however  criminal  or 
desperate,  for  her  deliverance.  Babington  entered  into  both  plots 
with  eagerness  ;  but  he  suggested,  that  so  essential  a  part  of  the 
action  as  the  assassination  of  the  queen  ought  not  to  be  entrusted 
to  one  adventurer  ;  and  he  lost  no  time  in  associating  five  others 
in  the  vow  of  Savage,  himself  undertaking  the  part  of  setting  free 
the  captive  Mary.  With  her  he  had  previously  been  in  corres- 
pondence, having  frequently  taken  the  charge  of  transmitting  to 
her  by  secret  channels  her  letters  from  France ;  and  he  immedi- 
ately imparted  to  her  this  new  design  for  her  restoration  to  li- 
berty and  advancement  to  the  English  throne.  There  is  full  evi- 
dence that  Mary  approved  it  in  all  its  parts ;  that  in  several  suc- 
cessive letters  she  gave  Babington  counsels  or  directions  relative 
to  its  execution  ;  and  that  she  promised  to  the  perpetrators  of  the 
murder  of  Elizabeth  every  reward  which  it  should  hereafter  be  in 
her  power  to  bestow. 

All  this  time  the  vigilant  eye  of  Walsingham  was  secretly  fix- 
ed on  the  secure  conspirators.  He  held  a  thread  which  vibrated 
to  their  every  motion,  and  he  was  patiently  awaiting  the  moment 
of  their  complete  entanglement  to  spring  forth  and  seize  his  vic- 
tims. 

To  the  queen,  and  to  her  only,  he  communicated  the  daily  in- 
telligence which  he  received  from  a  spy  who  had  introduced  him- 
self into  all  their  secrets ;  and  Elizabeth  had  the  firmness  to  hasten 
nothing,  though  a  picture  was  actually  shown  her,  in  which  the 
six  assassins  had  absurdly  caused  themselves  to  be  represented 
with  a  motto  underneath  intimating  their  common  design.  These 
dreadful  visages  remained,  however,  so  perfectly  impressed  on 
her  memory,  that  she  immediately  recognised  one  of  the  conspi- 
rators who  had  approached  very  near  her  person  as  she  was  one 
day  walking  in  her  garden.  She  had  the  intrepidity  to  fix  him 
with  a  look  which  daunted  him  ;  and,  afterwards,  turning  to  her 
captain  of  the  guards,  she  remarked  that  she  was  well  guarded, 
not  having  a  single  armed  man  at  the  time  about  her. 

At  length,  Walsingham  judged  it  time  to  interpose  and  rescue 
his  sovereign  from  her  perilous  situation.  Ballard  was  first  seized 
and  soon  after  Babington  and  his  associates.  All,  overcome  by 
terror,  or  allured  by  vain  hopes,  severally  and  voluntarily  con- 
fessed their  guilt  and  accused  their  accomplices.  The  nation  was 
justly  exasperated  against  the  partakers  in  a  plot  which  compris- 
ed foreign  invasion,  domestic  insurrection,  the  assassination  of  a 
beloved  sovereign,  the  elevation  to  the  throne  of  her  feared  and 
hated  rival,  and  the  restoration  of  popery.  The  traitors  suffered, 
notwithstanding  the  interest  which  the  extreme  youth  and  good 
moral  characters  of  most  or  all  of  them  were  formed  to  inspire, 
amid  the  execrations  of  the  protestant  spectators.  But  what  was 
to  be  the  fate* of  that  "pretender  to  the  crown,"  on  whose  behalf 
and  with  whose  privity  this  foul  conspiracy  had  been  entered  into, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


339 


and  who  was,  by  the  late  statute,  passed  with  a  view  to  this  very 
case,  liable  to  condign  punishment  ? 

This  was  now  the  important  question  which  awaited  the  deci- 
sion of  Elizabeth,  and  divided  the  judgments  of  her  most  confi- 
dential counsellors.  Some  advised  that  the  royal  captive  should 
be  spared  the  ignominy  of  any  public  proceeding;  but  that  her 
attendants  should  be  removed,  and  her  custody  rendered  so  se- 
vere as  to  preclude  all  possibility  of  her  renewing  her  pestilent 
intrigues.  Leicester,  in  conformity  with  the  baseness  and  atro- 
city of  his  character,  is  related  to  have  suggested  the  employment 
of  treachery  against  the  life  of  a  prisoner  whom  it  appeared 
equally  dangerous  to  spare  or  to  punish  ;  and  to  have  sent  a  di- 
vine to  convince  Walsingham  of  the  lawfulness  of  taking  her  off' 
bypoison.  But  that  minister  rejected  the  proposal  with  abhor- 
rence, and  concurred  with  the  majority  of  the  council  in  urging 
the  queen  to  bring  her  without  fear  or  scruple  to  an  open  trial. 
In  favour  of  this  measure  Elizabeth  at  length  decided,  and  steps 
were  taken  accordingly. 

By  means  of  well  concerted  precautions,  Mary  had  been  kept  in 
total  ignorance  of  the  apprehension  of  the  conspirators,  till  their 
confessions  had  been  made  and  their  fates  decided : — a  gentleman 
was  then  sent  to  her  from  the  court  to  announce  that  all  was  dis- 
covered. 

It  was  just  as  she  had  mounted  her  horse  to  take  her  usual  ex- 
ercise with  her  keepers,  that  this  alarming  message  was  delivered 
to  her ;  and  for  obvious  reasons  she  was  compelled  to  proceed  on 
her  excursion,  instead  of  returning,  as  she  desired,  to  her  cham- 
ber. Meantime,  all  her  papers  were  seized,  sealed  up,  and  con- 
veyed to  the  queen.  Amongst  them  were  letters  from  a  large 
proportion  of  the  nobility  and  other  leading  characters  of  the 
English  court,  filled  with  expressions  of  attachment  to  the  person 
of  the  queen  of  Scots  and  sympathy  in  her  misfortunes,  not  un- 
mixed, in  all  probability,  with  severe  reflections  on  the  conduct 
of  her  rival  and  oppressor.  All  these  Elizabeth  perused,  and  no 
doubt  stored  up  in  her  memory ;  but  her  good  sense  and  prudence 
supplied  on  this  occasion  the  place  of  magnanimity ;  and  well 
knowing  that  the  conscious  fears  of  the  writers  would  be  ample 
security  for  their  future  conduct,  she  buried  in  lasting  silence 
and  apparent  oblivion  all  the  discoveries  which  had  reached  her 
through  this  channel. 

The  principal  domestics  of  Mary  were  now  apprehended,  and 
committed  to  different  keepers  ;  and  Nau  and  Curl,  her  two  se- 
cretaries, were  sent  prisoners  to  London.  She  herself  was  im- 
mediately removed  from  Tutbury,  and  conveyed  with  a  great  at- 
tendance of  the  neighbouring  gentry,  and  with  pauses  at  several 
noblemen's  houses  by  the  way,  to  the  strong  castle  of  Fotherin- 
gay,  in  Northamptonshire.  This  part  of  the  business  was  safely 
and  prudently  conducted  by  sir  Amias  Paulet ;  and  he  received 
for  his  encouragement  and  reward  the  following  characteristic 
letter,  subscribed  by  the  hand  of  her  majesty,  and  surely  of  her 
own  inditing. 


340 


THE  COURT  OK 


"  To  my  faithful  Amias. 

"  Amias,  my  most  careful  servant,  God  reward  thee  treble  fold 
in  the  double  for  thy  most  troublesome  charge  so  well  discharged  ! 
If  you  knew,  my  Amias,  how  kindly,  besides  dutifully,  my  grate- 
ful heart  accepteth  your  double  labours  and  faithful  actions,  your 
wise  orders  and  safe  conduct  performed  in  so  dangerous  and 
crafty  a  charge,  it  would  ease  your  troubles  and  rejoice  your  heart. 
And  (which  I  charge  you  to  carry  this  most  just  thought,)  that  I 
cannot  balance  in  any  weight  of  my  judgment  the  value  I  prize 
you  at :  And  suppose  no  treasure  to  countervail  such  a  faith :  And 
condemn  myself  in  that  fault  which  I  have  committed,  if  I  reward 
not  such  deserts.  Yea,  let  me  lack  when  I  have  most  need,  if  I 
acknowledge  not  such  a  merit  with  a  reward  'non  omnibus  datum.' 

"  But  let  your  wicked  mistress  know,  how  with  hearty  sorrow 
her  vile  deserts  compel  those  orders ;  and  bid  her  from  me  ask 
God  forgiveness  for  her  treacherous  dealing  toward  the  saver  of 
her  life  many  years,  to  the  intolerable  peril  of  her  own.  And  yet, 
not  content  with  so  many  forgivenesses,  must  fall  again  so  hor- 
ribly, far  passing  a  woman,  much  more  a  princess.  Instead  of  ex- 
cusing thereof,  not  one  can  serve,  it  being  so  plainly  confessed  by 
the  authors  of  my  guiltless  death. 

"  Let  repentance  take  place  ;  and  let  not  the  fiend  possess  so 
as  her  best  part  be  lost.  Which  I  pray,  with  hands  lifted  up  to 
him  that  may  both  save  and  spill.  With  my  loving  adieu  and 
prayer  for  thy  long  life, 

"  Your  assured  and  loving  sovereign  and  heart, 

by  good  desert  induced, 

"  Eliz.  R." 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  Mary  at  Fotheringay,  Elizabeth,  ac- 
cording to  the  provisions  of  the  late  act,  issued  out  a  commission 
to  forty  noblemen  and  privy-councillors,  empowering  them  to  try 
and  pass  sentence  upon  Mary,  daughter  and  heir  of  king  James 
Vr.  and  late  queen  of  Scots ;  for  it  was  thus  that  she  was  designa- 
ted, with  a  view  of  intimating  to  her  that  she  was  no  longer 
to  be  regarded  as  possessing  the  rights  of  a  sovereign  princess. 
Thirty-six  of  the  commissioners  repaired  immediately  to  Fother- 
ingay, where  they  arrived  on  October  9th,  1586,  and  cited  Mary 
to  appear  before  them.  This  summons  she  refused  to  obey,  on 
the  double  ground,  that  as  an  absolute  princess  she  was  free  from 
all  human  jurisdiction,  since  kings  only  could  be  her  peers  ;  and 
that  having  been  detained  in  England  as  a  prisoner,  she  had  not 
enjoyed  the  protection  of  the  laws,  and  consequently  ought  not. 
in  equity  to  be  regarded  as  amenable  to  their  sentence.  Weighty 
as  these  objections  may  appear,  the  commissioners  refused  to  ad- 
mit them,  and  declared  that  they  would  proceed  to  judge  her  by 
default.  This  menace  she  at  first  disregarded  ;  but  soon  after, 
overcome  by  the  artful  representations  of  Hatton,  on  the  infer- 
ences which  must  inevitably  be  drawn,  from  her  refusal  to  justify 
herself  for  the  satisfaction  of  a  princess  who  had  declared  that 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


341 


she  desired  nothing  so  much  as  the  establishment  of  her  inno 
<  nee,  she  changed  her  mind  and  consented  to  plead.  None  of 
her  papers  were  restored,  no  counsel  was  assigned  her  ;  and  her 
request  that  her  two  secretaries,  whose  evidence  was  principalis 
relied  on  by  the  prosecutors,  might  be  confronted  with  her. 
v  as  denied.  But  all  these  were  hardships  customarily  inflicted 
on  prisoners  accused  of  high  treason ;  and  it  does  not  appear  that, 
with  respect  to  its  forms  and  modes  of  proceedings-,  Mary  had 
cause  to  complain  that  her  trial  was  other  than  a  regular  and 
legal  one. 

On  her  first  appearance  she  renewed  her  protestation  agains 
the  competence  of  the  tribunal.    Bromley,  lord -chancellor  an 
swered  her,  showing  the  jurisdiction  of  the  English  law  over  all 
persons  within  the  country  ;  and  the  commissioners  ordered  both 
the  objection  and  the  reply  to  be  registered,  as  if  to  save  the  point 
of  law  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that  it  was  ever  referred  for  deci 
-ion  to  any  other  authority. 

Intercepted  letters,  authenticated  by  the  testimony  of  her  se 
retaries,  formed  the  chief  evidence  against  Mary.  From  these 
the  crown  lawyers  showed,  and  she  did  not  attempt  to  deny,  that 
she  had  suffered  her  correspondents  to  address  her  as  queen  of 
England  ;  that  she  had  endeavoured,  by  means  of  English  fugi- 
tives, to  incite  the  Spaniards  to  invade  the  country  ;  and  that  she 
had  been  negociating  at  Rome  the  terms  ot  a  transfer  of  all  her 
claims,  present  and  future,  to  the  king  of  Spain,  disinheriting  by 
this  unnatural  act,  her  own  schismatic  son.  The  further  charge 
of  having  concurred  in  the  late  plot  for  the  assassination  of  Eli- 
zabeth, she  strongly  denied  and  attempted  to  disprove  ;  but  it 
stood  on  equally  good  evidence  with  all  the  rest ;  and,  in  spite 
of  some  suggestions  of  which  her  modern  partisans  have  endea- 
voured to  give  her  the  benefit,  there  appears  no  solid  foundation 
on  which  an  impartial  inquirer  can  rest  any  doubt  of  the  fact. 

The  deportment  of  Mary  on  this  trying  emergency  exhibited 
somewhat  of  the  dignity,  but  more  of  the  spirit  and  adroitness, 
for  which  she  has  been  famed.  She  justified  her  negociations,  or 
intrigues,  with  foreign  princes,  on  the  ground  of  her  inalienable 
right  to  employ  all  the  means  within  her  power  for  the  recovery 
of  that  liberty  of  which  she  had  been  cruelly  and  unjustly  depri- 
ved. With  great  effrontery  she  persisted  in  denying  that  she  had 
ever  entertained  with  Babington  any  correspondence  whatever ; 
and  she  urged  that  his  pretending  to  receive,  or  having  in  fact 
received,  letters  written  in  her  cipher,  was  no  conclusive  proof 
against  her  ;  since  it  was  the  same  which  she  used  in  her  French 
correspondence,  and  might  have  fallen  into  other  hands.  But 
finding  herself  hard  pressed  by  evidence  on  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject, she  afterwards  hazarded  a  rash  attempt  to  fix  on  Walsing- 
ham  the  imputation  of  having  suborned  witnesses  and  forged  let- 
ters for  her  destruction.  The  aged  minister,  greatly  moved  by 
this  attack  upon  his  character,  immediately  rose  and  asserted  his 
innocence  in  a  manner  so  solemn,  and  with  such  circumstantial 


342 


THE  COURT  OF 


corroboration,  as  compelled  her  to  retract  the  accusation  with  ui>. 
apology. 

On  some  mention  of  the  earl  of  Arundel  and  lord  William 
Howard  his  brother,  which  occurred  in  the  intercepted  letters, 
she  sighed,  and  exclaimed  with  a  feeling  which  did  her  honour, 
"  Alas,  what  has  not  the  noble  house  of  Howard  suffered  for  my 

sake  !" 

On  the  whole,  her  presence  of  mind  was  remarkable :  though 
the  quick  sensibilities  of  her  nature  could  not  be  withheld  from 
breaking  out  at  times,either  in  vehement  sallies  of  anger  or  long 
tits  of  weeping,  as  the  sense  of  past  and  present  injuries,  or  of 
her  forlorn  and  afflicted  state  and  the  perils  and  sufferings  which 
still  menaced  her,  rose  by  turns  upon  her  agitated  and  affrighted 
mind. 

The  commissioners,  after  a  full  hearing  of  the  cause,  quitted 
Fotheringay,  and,  meeting  again  in  the  Star-chamber,  summoned 
before  them  the  two  secretaries,  who  voluntarily  confirmed  on 
oath  the  whole  of  their  former  depositions  :  after  this,  they  pro- 
ceeded to  an  unanimous  sentence  of  death  against  Mary,  which 
was  immediately  transmitted  to  the  queen  for  her  approbation. 
On  the  same  day  a  declaration  was  published  on  the  part  of  the 
commissioners  and  judges,  importing,  that  the  sentence  did  in 
no  manner  derogate  from  the  titles  and  honours  of  the  king  of 
Scots. 

Most  of  the  subsequent  steps  taken  by  Elizabeth  in  this  un- 
happy business  are  marked  with  the  features  of  that  intense  self- 
ishness, which,  scrupling  nothing  for  the  attainment  of  its  own 
mean  objects,  seldom  fails  by  exaggerated  efforts  and  overstrained 
manoeuvres  to  expose  itself  to  detection  and  merited  contempt. 

Never  had  she  enjoyed  a  higher  degree  of  popularity  than  at 
this  juncture:  the  late  discoveries  had  opened  to  view  a  series 
of  popish  machinations  which  had  fully  justified,  in  the  eyes  of 
an  alarmed  and  irritated  people,  even  those  previous  measures 
of  severity  on  the  part  of  her  government  which  had  most  con- 
tributed to  provoke  these  attempts. 

The  queen  was  more  than  ever  the  heroine  of  the  protestant 
party ;  and  the  image  of  those  imminent  and  hourly  perils  to 
which  her  zeal  in  the  good  cause  had  exposed  her,  inflamed  to 
enthusiasm  the  sentiment  of  loyalty.  On  occasion  of  the  de- 
tection of  Babington's  plot,  the  whole  people  gave  themselves 
up  to  rejoicings.  Sixty  bon-fires,  says  the  chronicler,  were  kin- 
dled between  Ludgate  and  Charing-cross,  and  tables  were  set 
out  in  the  open  streets  at  which  happy  neighbours  feasted  toge- 
ther. The  condemnation  of  the  queen  of  Scots  produced  similar 
demonstrations.  After  her  sentence  had  been  ratified  by  both 
houses  of  parliament,  it  was  thought  expedient,  probably  by  way 
of  feeling  the  pulse  of  the  people,  that  solemn  proclamation  of  it 
should  be  made  in  London  by  the  lord-mayor  and  city  officers, 
and  by  the  magistrates  of  the  county  in  Westminster.  The 
multitude,  untouched  by  the  long  misfortunes  of  an  unhappy 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


343 


princess  born  of  the  blood  royal  of  England  and  heiress  to  its 
throne, — insensible  too  of  every  thing  arbitrary,  unprecedented, 
or  unjust,  in  the  treatment  to  which  she  had  been  subjected  re- 
ceived the  notification  of  heft  doom  with  expressions  of  triumph 
and  exultations  truly  shocking.  Bonfires  were  lighted,  church 
bells  were  rung,  and  every  street  and  lane  throughout  the  city 
resounded  with  psalms  of  thanksgiving.* 

It  is  manifest,  therefore,  that  no  deference  for  the  opinions  or 
feelings  of  her  subjects,  compelled  Elizabeth  to  hesitate  or  to  dis- 
semble in  this  matter. 

Had  she  permitted  the  execution  of  the  sentence  simply,  and 
without  delay,  all  orders  of  men  attached  to  the  protestant  esta- 
blishment would  have  approved  it  as  an  act  fully  justified  by 
state-expediency  and  the  law  of  self-defence;  and  though  mis- 
givings might  have  arisen  in  the  minds  of  some  on  cooler  reflec- 
tion, when  alarm  had  subsided  and  the  bitterness  of  satiated  re- 
venge had  begun  to  make  itself  felt, — these  "  compunctious  vi- 
sitings"  could  have  led  to  no  consequences  capable  of  alarming 
her.  It  must  have  been  felt  as  highly  inequitable  to  reproach 
the  queen,  when  all  was  past  and  irrevocable,  for  the  consent 
which  she  had  afforded  to  a  deed  sanctioned  by  a  law,  ratified  by 
the  legislature,  and  applauded  by  the  people,  and  from  which  both 
church  and  state  had  reaped  the  fruits  of  security  and  peace. 
Foreign  princes  also  would  have  respected  the  vigour  of  this  pro- 
ceeding: they  would  not  have  been  displeased  to  see  themselves 
spared  by  a  decisive  act,  the  pain  of  making  disregarded  repre- 
sentations on  such  a  subject ;  and  a  secret  consciousness  that  few 
of  their  number  would  have  scrupled  under  all  the  circumstances 
to  take  like  vengeance  on  a  deadly  foe  and  rival,  might  further  have 
contributed  to  reconcile  them  to  the  fact.  Even  as  it  was,  pope 
Sixtus  V.  himself  could  scarcely  restrain  his  expressions  of  ad- 
miration at  the  completion  of  so  strong  a  measure  as  the  final  ex- 
ecution of  the  sentence :  his  holiness  had  indeed  a  strange  pas- 
sion for  capital  punishments,  and  he  is  said  to  have  envied  the 
queen  of  England  the  glorious  satisfaction  of  cutting  off"  a  royal 
head : — a  sentiment  not  much  more  extraordinary  from  such  a 
personage*  than  the  ardent  desire  which  he  is  reported  to  have 
expressed,  that  it  were  possible  for  him  to  have  a  son  by  this  he- 
retic princess  ;  because  the  offspring  of  such  parents  could  not 
fail,  he  said,  to  make  himself  king  of  the  world. 

But  it  was  the  weakness  of  Elizabeth  to  imagine,  that  an  ex- 
traordinary parade  of  reluctance,  and  the  interposition  of  some 
affected  delays,  would  change,  in  public  opinion,  the  whole  cha- 
racter of  the  deed  which  she  contemplated,  and  preserve  to  her 
the  reputation  of  feminine  mildness  and  sensibility,  without  the 
sacrifice  of  that  great  revenge  on  which  she  was  secretly  bent. 
The  world,  however,  when  it  has  no  interest  in  deceiving  itself, 
is  too  wise  to  accept  of  words  instead  of  deeds,  or  in  opposition 
to  them  ;  and  the  sole  result  of  her  artifices  was  to  aggravate  in 


*  IIol  linshcd's  Castrations. 


344 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  eyes  of  all  mankind  the  criminality  of  the  act,  by  giving  it  ra- 
ther the  air  of  a  treacherous  and  cold-blooded  murder,  than  of 
solemn  execution  done  upon  a  formidable  culprit  by  the  sentence 
of  offended  laws.  The  parliament  which  Elizabeth  had  sum- 
moned to  partake  the  odium  of  Mary's  death,  met  four  days  after 
the  judges  had  pronounced  her  doom,  and  was  opened  by  com- 
mission. An  unanimous  ratification  of  the  sentence  by  both 
houses  was  immediately  carried,  and  followed  by  an  earnest  ad- 
dress to  her  majesty  for  its  publication  and  execution ;  to  which 
she  returned  along  and  laboured  answer. 

She  began  with  the  expression  of  her  fervent  gratitude  to  Pro 
vidence  for  the  affections  of  her  people ;  adding  protestations  ol 
her  love  towards  them  and  of  her  perfect  willingness  to  have 
suffered  her  own  life  still  to  remain  exposed  as  a  mark  to  the 
aim  of  enemies  and  traitors,  had  she  not  perceived  how  intimate 
ly  the  safety  and  well-being  of  the  nation  was  connected  with 
her  own.  With  regard  to  the  queen  of  Scots,  she  said,  so  severe 
had  been  the  grief^which  she  had  sustained  from  her  recent  con 
duct,  that  the  fear  of  renewing  this  sentiment  had  been  the  cause 
and  the  sole  cause,  of  her  withholding  her  personal  appearance 
at  the  opening  of  that  assembly,  where  she  knew  that  the  subject, 
must  of  necessity  become  matter  of  discussion ;  and  not,  as  had 
been  suggested,  the  apprehension  of  any  violence  to  be  attempted 
against  her  person  ; — yet  she  might  mention,  that  she  had  actu 
ally  seen  a  bond  by  which  the  subscribers  bound  themselves  to 
procure  her  death  within  a  month. 

So  far  was  she  from  indulging  any  ill-will  against  one  of  the 
same  sex,  the  same  rank,  the  same  race  as  herself, — in  fact  her 
nearest  kinswoman, — that  after  having  received  full  information 
of  certain  of  her  machinations,  she  had  secretly  written  with  her 
own  hand  to  the  queen  of  Scots,  promising  that,  on  a  simple  con  - 
fession of  her  guilt  in  a  private  letter  to  herself,  all  should  be 
buried  in  oblivion.  She  doubted  not  that  the  ancient  laws  of  the 
land  would  have  been  sufficient  to  reach  the  guilt  of  her  who 
had  been  the  great  artificer  of  the  recent  treasons ;  and  she  had 
consented  to  the  passing  of  the  late  statute*  not  for  the  purpose 
of  ensnaring  her,  but  rather  to  give  her  warning  of  the  danger 
in  which  she  stood.  Her  lawyers,  from  their  strict  attachment 
to  ancient  forms,  would  have  brought  this  princess  to  trial  within 
the  county  of  Stafford,  have  compelled  her  to  hold  up  her  hand 
at  the  bar,  and  have  caused  twelve  jurymen  to  pass  judgment 
upon  her.  But  to  her  it  had  appeared  more  suitable  to  the  dig- 
nity of  the  prisoner  and  the  importance  of  the  cause  to  refer  the 
examination  to  the  judges,  nobles,  and  counsellors  of  the  realm  ; 
—happy  if  even  thus  she  could  escape  that  ready  censure  to 
which  the  conspicuous  station  of  sovereigns  on  all  occasions  ex- 
posed them. 

The  statute,  by  requiring  her  to  pronounce  judgment  upon  her 
kinswoman,  had  involved  her  in  anxiety  and  difficulties.  Amid 
all  her  perils,  however,  she  must  remember  with  gratitude  and 
affection  the  voluntary  association  into  which  her  subjects  had 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


345 


entered  for  her  defence.  It  was  never  her  practice  to  decide 
hastily  on  any  matter;  in  a  case  so  rare  and  important  some  in- 
terval of  deliberation  must  be  allowed  her ;  and  she  would  pray 
Heaven  to  enlighten  her  mind,  and  guide  it  to  the  decision  most 
beneficial  to  the  church,  to  the  state,  and  to  the  people. 

Twelve  days  after  the  delivery  of  this  speech,  her  majesty 
sent  a  message  to  both  houses,  entreating  that  her  parliament 
would  carefully  reconsider  the  matter,  and  endeavour  to  hit  upon 
some  device  by  which  the  life  of  the  queen  of  Scots  might  be 
rendered  consistent  with  her  own  safety,  and  that  of  the  country. 
Her  faithful  parliament,  however,  soon  after  acquainted  her,  that 
with  their  utmost  diligence  they  had  found  it  impracticable  to 
form  any  satisfactory  plan  ot  the  kind  she  desired ;  and  the 
speakers  of  the  two  houses  ended  a  long  representation  of  the 
mischiefs  to  be  expected  from  any  arrangement  by  which  Mary 
would  be  suffered  to  continue  in  life,  with  a  most  earnest  and 
humble  petition,  that  her  majesty  would  not  longer  deny  to  the 
united  wishes  and  entreaties  of  all  England,  what  it  would  be 
iniquitous  to  refuse  to  the  meanest  individual ;  the  execution  of 
justice. 

Elizabeth,  after  pronouncing  a  second  long  harangue  designed 
to  display  her  own  clemency,  to  upbraid  the  malice  of  her  libel- 
lers, and  to  refute  the  suspicion,  which  her  conscience  no  doubt 
helped  her  to  anticipate,  that  all  this  irresolution  was  but  feigned, 
and  that  the  decisions  of  the  two  houses  were  influenced  by  a 
secret  acquaintance  with  her  wishes, — again  dismissed  their  pe- 
tions  without  any  positive  answer.  Soon  after,  however,  she  per- 
mitted herself  to  authorise  the  proclamation  of  the  sentence,  and 
sent  lord  Buckhurst,  and  Beal,  clerk  of  the  council,  to  announce 
it  to  Mary  herself. 

During  the  whole  of  this  time  the  kings  of  France  and  of  Scot- 
land were  interceding  by  their  ambassadors  for  the  pardon  of  the 
illustrious  prisoner.  How  the  representations  of  Henry  III, 
were  received,  we  do  not  find  minutely  recorded ;  but  Elizabeth 
knew  that  they  might  be  safely  disregarded :  that  monarch  was 
himself  too  much  a  sufferer  by  the  arrogance  and  ambition  of  the 
house  of  Guise,  to  be  very  strenuous  in  his  friendship  towards 
any  one  so  nearly  connected  with  it ;  and  it  is  even  said  that, 
while  a  sense  of  decorum  extorted  from  him  in  public  some  en- 
ergetic expressions  of  the  interest  taken  by  him  in  the  fate  of  a 
sister-in-law  and  queen-dowager  of  France,  a  sentiment  of  re- 
gard for  Elizabeth,  his  friend  and  ally,  prompted  him  to  counsel 
her,  through  a  secret  agent,  to  execute  the  sentence  with  the 
least  possible  delay.  Of  the  treatment  experienced  by  the  mas- 
ter of  Gray,  the  envoy  of  James,  we  gain  some  particulars  from 
an  original  memorial  drawn  up  by  himself. 

He  appears  to  have  reached  Ware  on  December  24th,  whence 
he  sent  to  desire  Keith  and  Douglas,  the  resident  Scotch  am- 
bassadors, to  announce  to  the  queen  his  approach ;  and  she  vo- 
luntarily promised  that  the  life  of  Mary  should  be  spared  till 
his  proposals  were  heard.    His  reception  in  London  was  some- 


346 


THE  COURT  OF 


what  ungracious  ; — no  one  was  sent  to  welcome  or  convoy  him. 
and  it  was  ten  days  before  he  and  sir  Robert  Melvil  his  coadju 
tor,  were  admitted  to  an  audience.  Elizabeth's  first  address  to 
them  was,  "  A  thing  long  looked  for  should  be  welcome  when  it 
comes  ;  L  would  now  see  your  master's  offers."  Gray  desired 
first  to  be  assured  that  the  cause  for  which  those  offers  were 
made  was  4i  still  extant;"  that  is,  that  the  life  of  Mary  was  still 
safe,  and  should  be  so  till  their  mission  had  been  heard.  She 
answered,  "  1  think  it  be  extant  yet,  but  I  will  not  promise  for  an 
hour."  They  then  brought  forward  certain  proposals,  not  here 
recited,  which  she  rejected  with  contempt;  and  calling  in  Lei- 
cester, the  lord -admiral,  and  Hatton,  "  very  despitefully"  re- 
peated them  in  hearing  of  them  all.  Gray  then  propounded  his 
last  offer: — that  the  queen  of  Scots  should  resign  all  her  claims 
upon  the  English  succession  to  her  son,  by  which  means  the  hopes 
M  the  papists  would,  as  he  said,  be  cut  off.  The  terms  in  which 
this  overture  was  made,  Elizabeth  affected  not  to  understand ; 
Leicester  explained  their  meaning  to  be,  that  the  king  of  Scots 
should  be  put  in  his  mother's  place.  "  Is  H  so?"  the  que^n  an- 
swered :  "  then  I  put  myself  in  a  worse  case  than  before: — By 
God's  passion  that  were  to  cut  my  own  throat;  and  for  a  duchy 
or  an  earldom  to  yourself,  you,  or  such  as  you,  would  cause  some 
of  your  desperate  knaves  to  kill  me.  No,  by  God,  he  shall  never 
be  in  that  place  !"  Gray  answered,  "  He  craves  nothing  of  your 
majesty,  but  only  of  his  mother."  "  That,"  said  Leicester, 
*'  were  to  make  him  party  (rival  or  adversary)  to  the  queen  my 
mistress."  "  He  will  be  far  more  party,"  replied  Gray,  "if  he 
be  in  her  place  through  her  death."  Her  majesty  exclaimed, 
that  she  should  not  have  a  worse  in  his  mother's  place,  and 
added  ;  "  Teli  your  king  what  good  I  have  done  for  him  in  hold- 
ing the  crown  on  his  head  since  he  was  born,  and  that  I  mind 
(intend)  to  keep  the  league,  that  now  stands  between  us,  and  if 
he  break  it,  it  shall  be  a  double  fault."  With  this  speech  she 
would  have  left  them ;  but  they  persisted  in  arguing  the  matter 
further,  though  in  vain.  Gray  then  requested  that  Mary's  life 
might  be  spared  for  fifteen  days ;  the  queen  refused :  sir  Robert 
Melvil  begged  for  only  eight  days ;  she  said  not  for  an  hour,  and 
so  quitted  them. 

After  this  the  Scotch  ambassadors  assumed  a  tone  of  menace; 
but  the  perfidious  Gray  secretly  fortified  Elizabeth's  resolution 
with  the  proverb,  "  The  dead  cannot  bite ;"  and  undertook  soor? 
to  pacify,  in  any  event,  the  anger  of  his  master,  whose  minion 
he  at  this  time  was. 

No  sooner  had  Elizabeth  silenced  with  this  show  of  inflexibi 
lity  all  the  pleadings  or  menaces  by  which  others  had  attempted 
to  divert  her  from  her  fatal  aim,  than  she  began,  as  in  the  affair 
of  the  French  marriage,  to  feel  her  own  resolution  waver.  It 
appears  unquestionable  that  to  affected  delays  a  real  hesitation 
succeeded.  When  her  pride  was  no  longer  irritated  by  opposi- 
tion, she  had  leisure  to  survey  the  meditated  deed  in  every  light; 
and  as  it  rose  upon  her  view  in  all  its  native  deformity,  anxious 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


347 


fears  for  her  own  fame  and  credit,  yet  untainted  by  any  crime, 
and  perhaps  genuine  scruples  of  conscience,  forcibly  assailed  her 
resolution.  But  her  ministers,  deeply  sensible  that  both  she  and 
they  had  already  gone  too  far  to  recede  with  reputation  or  with 
safety,  encountered  her  growing  reluctance  with  a  proportional 
increase  in  the  vehemence  of  their  clamours  for  what  they  call- 
ed, and  perhaps  thought,  justice.  All  the  hazards  to  which  hei 
excess  of  clemency  might  be  imagined  to  expose  her,  were  con- 
jured up  in  the  most  alarming  forms  to  repel  her  scruples.  A 
plot  for  her  assassination  was  disclosed,  to  which  the  French  am  - 
bassador was  ascertained  to  have  been  privy ; — rumours  were 
raised  of  invasions  and  insurrections;  and  it  may  be  suspected 
that  the  queen,  really  alarmed  in  the  first  instance  by  the  repre- 
sentations of  her  council,  voluntarily  contributed  afterwards  to 
keep  up  these  delusions  for  the  sake  of  terrifying  the  minds  of 
men  into  an  approval  of  the  deed  of  blood. 

At  length,  on  February  1st,  1587,  her  majesty  ordered  secre- 
tary Davison  to  bring  her  the  warrant,  which  had  remained  ready 
drawn  in  his  hands  for  some  weeks ;  and  having  signed  it,  she 
told  him  to  get  it  sealed  with  the  great  seal,  and  in  his  way  to 
call  on  Walsingham,  and  tell  him  what  she  had  done  ;  "  though," 
she  added  smiling,  "  I  fear  he  will  die  of  grief  when  he  hears  of 
it;" — this  minister  being  then  sick.  Davison  obeyed  her  direc- 
tions, and  the  warrant  was  sealed.  The  next  day  he  received  a 
message  from  her,  purporting  that  he  should  forbear  to  carry  the 
warrant  to  the  lord  keeper  till  further  orders.  Surprised  and 
perplexed,  he  immediately  waited  upon  her  to  receive  her  fur- 
ther directions ;  when  she  chid  him  for  the  haste  he  had  used  in 
this  matter,  and  talked  in  a  fluctuating  and  undetermined  manner 
respecting  it  which  greatly  alarmed  him.  On  leaving  the  queen 
he  immediately  communicated  the  circumstances  to  Burleigh 
and  Hatton ;  and  thinking  it  safest  for  himself  to  rid  his  hands 
of  the  warrant,  he  delivered  it  up  to  Burleigh,  by  whom  it  had 
been  drawn,  and  from  whom  he  had  at  first  received  it.  A  council 
was  now  called,  consisting  of  such  of  the  ministers  as  either  the 
queen  herself  or  Davison  had  made  acquainted  with  the  signing 
of  the  warrant ;  and  it  was  proposed  that,  without  any  further 
communication  with  her  majesty,  it  should  be  sent  down  for  im- 
mediate execution  to  the  four  earls  to  whom  it  was  directed. 

Davison  appears  to  have  expressed  some  fears  that  he  should 
be  made  to  bear  the  blame  of  this  step ;  but  all  his  fellow-coun- 
cillors then  present  joined  to  assure  him  that  they  would  share 
the  responsibility :  it  was  also  said,  that  her  majesty  had  desired 
of  several  that  she  might  not  be  troubled  respecting  any  of  the 
particulars  of  the  last  dismal  scene  ;  consequently  it  was  impos- 
sible that  she  could  complain  of  their  proceeding  without  her 
privity.  By  these  arguments  Davison  was  seduced  to  give  his 
concurrence  ;  and  Beal,  a  person  noted  for  the  vehemence  of  his 
attachment  to  the  protestant  cause  and  to  the  title  of  the  coun- 
tess of  Hertford,  was  dispatched  with  the  instrument ;  in  obe  - 
dience to  which  Mary  underwent  the  fatal  stroke  on  February  8th. 


348 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  news  of  this  event  was  received  by  Elizabeth  with  the 
most  extraordinary  demonstrations  of  astonishment,  grief,  and 
anger.  Her  countenance  changed,  her  voice  faltered,  and  she 
remained  for  some  moments  fixed  and  motionless  ;  a  violent  burst 
of  tears  and  lamentations  succeeded,  with  which  she  mingled 
expressions  of  rage  against  her  whole  council.  They  had  com- 
mitted, she  said,  a  crime  never  to  be  forgiven ;  they  had  put  to 
death  without  her  knowledge  her  dear  kinswoman  and  sister, 
against  whom  they  well  knew  that  it  was  her  fixed  resolution 
never  to  proceed  to  this  fatal  extremity.  She  put  on  deep  mourn- 
ing, kept  herself  retired  among  her  ladies  abandoned  to  sighs  and 
tears,  and  drove  from  her  presence  with  the  most  furious  re- 
proaches such  of  her  ministers  as  ventured  to  approach  her.  She 
caused  several  of  the  councillors  to  be  examined  as  to  the  share 
which  they  had  taken  in  this  transaction.  Burleigh  was  of  the 
number  ;  and  against  him  she  expressed  herself  with  such  pecu- 
liar bitterness  that  he  gave  himself  up  for  lost,  and  begged  per- 
mission to  retire  with  the  loss  of  all  his  employments.  This  re- 
signation was  not  accepted  ;  and  after  a  considerable  interval, 
during  which  this  great  minister  deprecated  the  wrath  of  his  so- 
vereign in  letters  of  penitence  and  submission  worthy  only  of  an 
Oriental  slave,  she  condescended  to  be  reconciled  to  a  man  whose 
services  she  felt  to  be  indispensable. 

But  the  manes  of  Mary,  or  the  indignation  of  her  son,  could 
not  be  appeased,  it  seems,  without  a  sacrifice  ;  and  a  fit  victim 
was  at  hand.  From  some  words  dropped  by  lord  Burleigh  on 
his  examination,  it  had  appeared  that  it  was  the  declaration  of 
Davison  respecting  the  sentiments -of  the  queen,  as  expressed  to 
himself,  which  had  finally  decided  the  council  to  send  down  the 
warrant ;  and  on  this  ground  proceedings  were  instituted  against 
the  unfortunate  secretary.  He  was  stripped  of  his  office,  sent  to 
the  Tower  in  spite  of  the  warm  and  honest  remonstrances  of  Bur- 
leigh, and  after  several  examinations  subjected  to  a  process  in 
the  Star-chamber  for  a  twofold  contempt.  First,  in  revealing 
her  majesty's  counsels  to  others  of  her  ministers  ; — secondly,  in 
giving  up  to  them  an  instrument  which  she  had  committed  to  him 
in  special  trust  and  secrecy,  to  be  kept  in  case  of  any  sudden 
emergency  which  might  require  its  use. 

Davison  demanded  that  his  own  examination,  which  with  that 
of  Burleigh  formed  the  whole  evidence  against  him,  should  be 
read  entire,  instead  of  being  picked  and  garbled  by  the  crown 
lawyers;  but  this  piece  of  justice  the  queen's  counsel  refused  him, 
on  the  ground  that  they  contained  matter  unfit  to  be  divulged.  He 
was  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  a  fine  of  ten  thousand  marks 
and  imprisonment  during  the  queen's  pleasure,  by  judges  who 
at  the  same  time  expressed  a  high  opinion  both  of  his  abilities 
and  his  integrity,  and  who  certainly  regarded  his  offence  as  no- 
thing more  than  an  error  of  judgment  or  want  of  due  caution. 
Elizabeth  ordered  a  copy  of  his  sentence  to  be  immediately 
transmitted  to  the  king  of  Scots,  as  triumphant  evidence  of  that 
perfect  innocence  in  the  tragical  accident  of  his  mother's  death, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


S49 


of  which  she  had  already  made  solemn  protestation.  James  com- 
plied so  far  with  obvious  motives  of  policy  as  to  accept  her  ex- 
cuses without  much  inquiry;  but  impartial  posterity  will  not  be 
disposed  to  dismiss  so  easily  an  important  and  curious  investi- 
gation which  it  possesses  abundant  means  of  pursuing.  The  re- 
cord of  Burleigh's  examination  is  still  extant,  and  so  likewise  is 
Davison's  apology  ;  a  piece  which  was  composed  by  himself  at 
the  time  and  addressed  to  Walsingham,  who  could  best  judge  of 
its  accuracy;  and  which  after  being  communicated  to  Camden, 
who  has  inserted  an  extract  from  it  in  his  Annals,  has  at  length 
been  found  entire  among  the  original  papers  of  sir  Amias  Pau- 
let.  From  this  authentic  source  we  derive  the  following  very 
extraordinary  particulars. 

It  was  by  the  lord-admiral  that  the  queen  first  sent  a  message 
to  Davison  requiring  him  to  bring  the  warrant  for  her  signa- 
ture ;  after  subscribing  it,  she  asked  him  if  he  were  not  heartily 
sorry  it  were  done  ?  to  which  he  replied  by  a  moderate  and 
cautious  approval  of  the  act.  She  bade  him  tell  the  chancellor 
when  he  carried  the  warrant  to  be  sealed,  that  he  must  "  use  it 
as  secretly  as  might  be."  She  then  signed  other  papers  which 
he  had  brought ;  dispatching  them  all  "  with  the  best  disposition 
and  willingness  that  could  be."  Afterwards  she  recurred  to  tire 
subject ;  mentioned  that  she  had  delayed  the  act  so  long  that  the 
world  might  see  "  that  she  had  not  been  violently  or  maliciously 
drawn  unto  it;"  but  that  she  had  all  along  perceived  the  neces- 
sity of  it  to  her  own  security.  She  then  said,  that  she  would 
have  it  done  as  secretly  as  might  be,  and  not  in  the  open  court 
or  green  of  the  castle,  but  in  the  hall.  Just  as  Davison  was  ga- 
thering up  his  papers  to  depart,  "  she  fell  into  some  complaint 
of  sir  Amias  Paulet  and  others  that  might  have  eased  her  of  this 
burthen;''  and  she  desired  that  he  would  yet  "deal  with  secre- 
tary Walsingham  to  write  jointly  to  sir  Amias  and  sir  Drue 
Drury  to  sound  them  in  this  matter  ;  "  aiming  still  at  this,  that 
it  might  be  so  done  as  the  blame  might  be  removed  from  herself." 
This  nefarious  commission  Davison  strangely  consented  to  ex- 
ecute, though  he  declares  that  he  had  always  before  refused  to 
meddle  therein  "upon  sundry  of  her  majesty's  motions," — as  a 
thing  which  he  utterly  disapproved  ;  and  though  he  was  fully 
persuaded  that  the  wisdom  and  integrity  of  sir  Amias  would  ren- 
der the  application  fruitless.  The  queen  repeated  her  injunc- 
tions of  secrecy  in  the  matter,  and  he  departed. 

He  went  to  Walsingham,  told  him  that  the  warrant  was  sign- 
ed for  executing  the  sentence  against  the  queen  of  Scots  ;  agreed 
with  him  at  the  same  time  about  the  letter  to  be  written  to  sir 
Amias  for  her  private  assassination  ; — then  got  the  warrant  seal- 
ed, then  dispatched  the  letter. 

The  next  morning,  the  queen  sent  him  word  to  forbear  going 
to  the  chancellor  till  she  had  spoken  with  him  again.  He  went 
directly  to  acquaint  her  that  he  had  already  seen  him.  She  ask  - 
ed, "  what  needed  such  haste?"  He  pleaded  her  commands, 
and  the  danger  of  delay.    The  queen  particularised  some  other 


HIE  COURT  OF 


form  in  which  she  thought  it  would  be  safer  and  better  for  her  to 
have  the  thing  done.  Davison  answered,  that  the  just  and  honour- 
able way  would,  he  thought,  be  the  safest  and  the  best,  if  she 
meant  to  have  it  done  at  all.  The  queen  made  no  reply,  but 
went  to  dinner. — It  appears  from  another  statement  of  Davison's 
case,  also  drawn  up  by  himself,  that  it  was  on  this  very  day, 
without  waiting  either  for  Paulet's  answer  or  for  more  explicit 
orders  from  her  majesty,  that  he  had  the  incredible  rashness  to 
deliver  up  the  warrant  to  Burleigh,  and  to  concur  in  the  subse- 
quent proceedings  of  the  council ;  though  aware  that  the  mem- 
bers were  utterly  ignorant  of  the  queen's  application  to  Paulet. 

A  day  or  two  after,  her  majesty  called  him  to  her  in  the  privy 
chamber,  and  told  him  smiling  that  she  had  been  troubled  with 
him  in  a  dream  which  she  had  had  the  night  before,  that  the 
queen  of  Scots  was  put  to  death  ;  and  which  so  disturbed  her, 
that  she  thought  she  could  have  run  him  through  with  a  sword. 
He  answered  at  first  jestingly,  but,  on  recollection,  asked  her 
with  great  earnestness,  whether  she  did  not  intend  that  the  mat- 
ter should  go  forward?  She  answered  vehemently  and  with  an 
oath,  that  she  did ;  but  again  harped  upon  the  old  string  ; — that 
this  mode  would  cast  all  the  blame  upon  herself,  and  a  better 
might  be  contrived.  The  same  afternoon  she  inquired  if  he  had 
received  an  answer  from  sir  Amias ;  which  at  the  time  he  had 
not,  but  he  brought  it  to  her  the  next  morning.  It  contained  an 
absolute  refusal  to  be  concerned  in  any  action  inconsistent  with 
justice  and  honour.  At  this  the  queen  was  much  offended  ;  she 
complained  of  what  she  called  the  "dainty  perjury''  of  him  and 
others,  who  contrary  to  their  oath  of  association  cast  the  burthen 
upon  herself.  Soon  after,  she  again  blamed  "  the  niceness  of 
these  precise  fellows ;"  but  said  she  would  have  the  thing  done 
without  them,  and  mentioned  one  Wingfield  who  would  under- 
take it.  Davison  remonstrated  against  this  design  ;  and  also  re- 
presented the  dangerous  dilemma  in  which  Paulet  and  Drury 
would  have  been  placed  by  complying  with  her  wishes  ;  since,  if 
she  avowed  their  act,  she  took  it  upon  herself,  "  with  her  infinite 
dishonour  if  she  disavowed  it,  they  were  ruined.  It  is  abso- 
lutely inconceivable  how  a  man  who  understood  so  well  the  perils 
which  these  persons  had  skilfully  avoided,  should  have  remained 
so  blind  to  those  which  menaced  himself ;  yet  Davison,  by  his 
own  account,  still  suffered  the  queen  to  go  on  devising  new 
schemes  for  the  taking  oft' of  Mary,  without  either  acquainting 
her  that  the  privy-council  had  already  sent  oft"  Beal  with  the 
warrant,  or  interfering  with  them  to  procure,  if  possible,  the  re- 
call of  this  messenger  of  death.  Even  on  his  next  interview  with 
her,  which  he  believes  to  have  been  on  Tuesday,  the  very  day 
before  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  when  her  majesty,  after 
speaking  of  the  daily  peril  in  which  she  lived,  swore  a  great  oath 
that  it  was  a  shame  for  them  all  that  the  thing  was  not  yet  done, 
and  spoke  to  him  to  write  a  letter  to  Paulet  for  the  dispatch  of 
the  business;  he  contented  himself  with  observing  generally,  that 
the  warrant  was,  he  thought  sufficient ;  and  though  the  queen 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


351 


still  inclined  to  think  the  letter  requisite,  he  left  her  without 
even  dropping  a  hint  that  it  was  scarcely  within  the  limits  of 
possibility  that  it  should  arrive  before  the  sentence  had  been  put- 
in  execution. 

Of  this  unaccountable  imprudence  the  utmost  advantage  was 
taken  against  him  by  his  cruel  and  crafty  mistress  ;  whose  chief 
concern  it  had  all  along  b?en  to  discover  by  what  artifice  she 
might  throw  the  greatest  possible  portion  of  the  blame  from  her- 
self upon  others.  Davison  underwent  a  long  imprisonment;  the 
fine,  though  it  reduced  him  to  beggary,  was  rigorously  exacted  ; 
some  scanty  supplies  for  the  relief  of  his  immediate  necessities, 
while  in  prison,  were  all  that  her  majesty  would  vouchsafe  him; 
and  neither  the  zealous  attestations  of  Burleigh  in  the  beginning 
to  his  merit  and  abilities  and  the  importance  of  his  public  ser- 
vices, nor  the  subsequent  earnest  pleadings  of  her  own  beloved 
Essex  for  his  restoration,  could  ever  prevail  with  Elizabeth  to 
lay  aside  the  appearances  of  perpetual  resentment  which  she 
thought  good  to  preserve  against  him.  She  would  neither  rein- 
state him  in  office  nor  ever  more  admit  him  to  her  presence ;  un- 
able perhaps  to  bear  the  pain  of  beholding  a  countenance  which 
carried  with  it  an  everlasting  reproach  to  her  conscience. 

From  the  formidable  responsibilities  of  this  unprecedented  ac- 
tion, the  wary  Walsingham  had  withdrawn  him  by  favour  of  an 
opportune  fit  of  sickness,  which  disabled  him  from  taking  part 
in  any  thing  but  the  application  to  sir  Amias  Paulet,  by  which  he 
could  incur,  as  he  well  knew,  no  hazard.  A  still  more  crafty 
politician,  Leicester,  after  throwing  out  in  the  privy-council  hints 
of  her  majesty's  wishes,  which  served  to  accelerate  the  decisive 
steps  there  taken,  had  artfully  contrived  to  escape  from  all  fur- 
ther participation  in  their  proceedings.  Both  ministers,  in  secret 
letters  to  Scotland,  washed  their  hands  of  the  blood  of  Mary. 
But  Leicester,  not  content  with  these  defensive  measures,  sought 
to  improve  the  opportunity  to  the  destruction  of  a  rival  whom  he 
had  never  ceased  to  hate  and  envy.  To  his  insidious  arts  the 
temporary  disgrace  of  Burleigh  is  probably  to  be  imputed ;  and 
it  seems  to  have  been  from  the  apprehension  of  his  malignant 
misconstructions  that  the  lord  treasurer  refused  to  put  on  paper 
the  particulars  of  his  defence,  and  never  ceased  to  implore  ad- 
mission to  plead  his  cause  before  his  sovereign  in  person.  His 
perseverance  at  length  prevailed  :  the  queen  saw  him  ;  heard  his 
justification,  and  restored  him  to  her  wonted  grace  ;  after  which 
the  tacit  compromise  between  the  minister  and  the  favourite  was 
restored  ; — that  compromise  by  which,  during  eight-and-twenty 
years,  each  had  vindicated  to  himself  an  equality  of  political 
power,  personal  influence,  and  royal  favour,  with  the  secret  ene- 
my whom  he  vainly  wished,  or  hoped,  or  plotted,  to  displace. 

To  relate  again  those  melancholy  details  of  Mary's  closing 
scene,  on  which  the  historians  of  England  and  of  Scotland,  as 
well  as  the  numerous  biographers  of  this  ill-fated  princess,  have 
exhausted  all  the  arts  of  eloquence,  would  be  equally  needless 
and  presumptuous.    It  is,  however,  important  to  remark,  that 


352 


THE  COURT  OF 


she  died  rather  with  the  triumphant  air  of  a  martyr  to  her  reli- 
gion, the  character  which  she  falsely  assumed,  than  with  the 
meekness  of  a  victim  or  the  penitence  of  a  culprit.  She  bade 
Melvil  tell  her  son  that  she  had  done  nothing  injurious  to  his 
rights  or  honour  ;  though  she  was  actually  in  treaty  to  disinherit 
him,  and  had  also  consented  to  a  nefarious  plot  for  carrying  him 
off  prisoner  to  Rome  ;  and  she  denied  with  obstinacy  to  the  last 
the  charge  of  conspiring  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  though  by  her 
will,  written  the  day  before  her  death,  she  rewarded  as  faithful 
servants  the  two  secretaries  who  had  borne  this  testimony  against 
her.  A  spirit  of  self-justification  so  haughty  and  so  unprincipled, 
a  perseverance  in  deliberate  falsehood  so  resolute  and  so  shame- 
less, ought  under  no  circumstances  and  in  no  personage,  not  even 
in  a  captive  beauty  and  an  injured  queen,  to  be  confounded,  by 
any  writer  studious  of  the  moral  tendencies  of  history  and  capa- 
ble of  sound  discrimination,  with  genuine  religion,  true  fortitude, 
or  the  dignity  which  renders  misfortune  respectable. 

Let  due  censure  be  passed  on  the  infringement  of  morality 
committed  by  Elizabeth,  in  detaining  as  a  captive  that  rival  kins- 
woman, and  pretender  to  her  crown,  whom  the  dread  of  still 
more  formidable  dangers  had  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  her 
dominions  :  let  it  be  admitted,  that  the  exercise  of  criminal  ju- 
risdiction over  a  person  thus  lawlessly  detained  in  a  foreign 
country  was  another  sacrifice  of  the  just  to  the  expedient,  which 
none  but  a  profligate  politician  will  venture  to  defend  ;  and  let 
the  efforts  of  Mary  to  procure  her  own  liberty,  though  with  the 
destruction  of  her  enemy  and  at  the  cost  of  a  civil  war  to  Eng- 
land, be  held,  if  religion  will  permit,  justifiable  or  venial ; — but 
let  not  our  resentment  of  the  wrongs,  or  compassion  for  the  long 
misfortunes,  of  this  unhappy  woman  betray  us  into  a  blind  con- 
currence in  eulogiums  lavished,  by  prejudice  or  weakness,  on  a 
character  blemished  by  many  foibles,  stained  by  some  enormous 
crimes,  and  never  under  the  guidance  of  the  genuine  principles 
of  moral  recitude. 


t 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


353 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


1587  and  1588. 

U  political  effect  of  the  death  of  Mary. — Warlike  preparations 
of  Spain  destroyed  by  Drake. — Case  of  lord  Beauchamp. — Death 
and  character  of  the  duchess  of  Somerset. — Hatton  appointed 
chancellor. — Leicester  returns  to  Holland — is  again  recalled. — 
Disgrace  of  lord  Buckhurst. — Rupture  with  Spain. — Prepara- 
tions against  the  Armada. — Notices  of  the  earls  of  Cumberland 
and  Northumberland — T.  and  R.  Cecil — earl  of  Oxford — sir  C. 
Blount — W.  Raleigh — lord  Howard  of  Effingham. — Hawkins — 
Frobisher — Drake. — Leicester  appointed  general. — Queen  at 
Tilbury. — Defeat  of  the  Armada. — Introduction  of  newspapers. 
— Death  of  Leicester. 

It  is  well  deserving  of  remark,  that  the  strongest  and  most 
extraordinary  act  of  the  whole  administration  of  Elizabeth, — 
that  which  brought  the  blood  of  a  sister-queen  upon  her  head  and 
indelible  reproach  upon  her  memory, — appears  to  have  been  pro- 
ductive of  scarcely  any  assignable  political  effect.  It  changed 
her  relations  with  no  foreign  power,  it  altered  very  little  the 
state  of  parties  at  home,  it  recommended  no  new  adviser  to  her 
favour,  it  occasioned  the  displacement  of  Davison  alone. 

She  may  appear,  it  is  true,  to  have  obtained  by  this  stroke  an 
immunity  from  that  long  series  of  dark  conspiracies  by  which, 
during  so  many  years,  she  had  been  disquieted  and  endangered. 
To  deliver  the  queen  of  Scots  was  an  object  for  which  many  men 
had  been  willing  to  risk  their  lives  ;  but  none  were  found  despe- 
rate or  chivalrous  enough  to  run  the  same  hazard  in  order  to 
avenge  her.  But  the  recent  detection  of  Babington  and  his  asso- 
ciates, and  the  rigorous  justice  executed  upon  them,  was  likely, 
even  without  the  death  of  Mary,  to  have  deterred  from  the  speedy 
repetition  of  similar  practices  ;  and  a  crisis  was  now  approach- 
ing fitted  to  suspend  the  machinations  of  faction,  to  check  the 
operation  even  of  religious  bigotry,  and  to  unite  all  hearts  in  the 
love,  all  hands  in  the  protection,  of  their  native  soil. 

Philip  of  Spain,  though  he  purposely  avoided  as  yet  a  declara- 
tion of  war,  was  known  to  be  intently  occupied  upon  the  means 
of  taking  signal  vengeance  on  the  queen  of  England  for  all  the 
acts  of  hostility  on  her  part  of  which  he  thought  himself  entitled 
to  complain. 

Already  in  the  summer  of  1587  the  ports  of  Spain  and  Portugal 
had  begun  to  be  thronged  with  vessels  of  various  sorts  and  every 
size,  destined  to  compose  that  terrible  armada  from  which  no- 
thing less  than  the  complete  subjugation  of  England  was  antici- 
pated : — already  had  the  pope  showered  down  his  benedictions 


3j4 


THE  COURT  OF 


on  the  holy  enterprise  ;  and,  by  a  bull  declaring  the  throne  of  the 
schismatic  princess  forfeited  to  the  first  occupant,  made  way  for 
the  pretensions  of  Philip,  who  claimed  it  as  the  true  heir  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster. 

But  Elizabeth  was  not  of  a  temper  so  timid  or  so  supine  as  to 
suffer  these  preparations  cO  advance  without  interruption.  She 
ordered  Drake  to  sail  immediately  for  the  coast  of  Spain,  and 
put  in  practice  against  her  enemy  every  possible  mode  of  injury 
and  annoyance.  To  the  four  great  ships  which  she  allotted  to 
him  for  this  service,  the  English  merchants,  instigated  by  the 
hopes  of  plunder,  cheerfully  added  twenty-six  more  of  different 
sizes ;  and  with  this  force  the  daring  leader  steered  for  the  port 
of  Cadiz,  where  a  richly  laden  fleet  lay  ready  to  sail  for  Lisbon, 
the  final  rendezvous  for  the  whole  armada.  By  the  impetuosity 
of  his  attack,  he  compelled  six  galleys  which  defended  the  mouth 
of  the  harbour  to  seek  shelter  under  its  batteries  ;  and  having  thus 
forced  an  entrance,  he  took,  burned,  and  destroyed  about  a  hun- 
dred store-ships  and  two  galleons  of  superior  size.  This  done, 
he  returned  to  Cape  St.  Vincent ;  then  took  three  castles ;  and 
destroying  as  he  proceeded  every  thing  that  came  in  his  way,  even 
to  the  fishing-boats  and  nets,  he  endeavoured  to  provoke  the 
Spanish  admiral  to  come  out  and  give  him  battle  off  the  mouth  of 
the  Tagus.  But  the  marquis  of  Santa  Croce  deemed  it  prudent 
to  suffer  him  to  pillage  the  coast  without  molestation.  Having 
fully  effected  this  object,  he  made  sail  for  the  Azores,  where  the 
capture  of  a  bulky  carrack  returning  from  India  amply  indemni- 
fied the  merchants  for  all  the  expenses  of  the  expedition,  and  en- 
riched the  admiral  and  his  crews.  Drake  returned  to  England  in 
a  kind  of  triumph,  boasting  that  he  had  "singed  the  whiskers"  of 
the  king  of  Spain  :  nor  was  his  vaunt  unfounded  ;  the  destruction 
of  the  store-ships,  and  the  havoc  committed  by  him  on  the  maga- 
zines of  every  kind,  was  a  mischief  so  great,  and  for  the  present 
so  irreparable,  that  it  crippled  the  whole  design,  and  compelled 
Philip  to  defer,  for  no  less  than  a  year,  the  sailing  of  his  invinci- 
ble armada. 

The  respite  thus  procured  was  diligently  improved  by  Eliza- 
beth for  the  completion  of  her  plans  of  defence  against  the  hour 
of  trial,  which  she  still  anticipated. — The  interval  seems  to  afford 
a  fit  occasion  for  the  relation  of  some  incidents  of  a  more  private 
nature,  but  interesting  as  illustrative  of  the  manners  and  prac- 
tices of  the  age. 

It  has  been  already  mentioned,  that  the  secret  marriage  of  the 
earl  of  Hertford  with  lady  Catherine  Gray,  notwithstanding  the 
sentence  of  nullity  which  the  queen  had  caused  to  be  so  precipi 
tateJ  pronounced,  and  the  punishment  which  she  had  tyranni 
inflicted  on  the  parties,  had  at  length  been  duly  established 
.  ;egal  decision  in  which  her  majesty  was  compelled  to  ac  - 
quiesce. The  eldest  son  of  the  earl  assumed  in  consequence  his 
father's  second  title  of  lord  Beauchamp,  and  became  undoubted 
heir  to  all  the  claims  of  the  Suffolk  line.  About  the  year  1585. 
this  young  nobleman  married,  unknown  to  his  father,  a  daughter 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


ot  sir  Richard  Rogers,  of  Brianston,  a  gentleman  of  ancient  fa- 
mily, whose  son  had  already  been  permitted  to  intermarry  with 
a  daughter  of  the  house  of  Seymour  It  might  have  been  hoped 
that  the  earl  of  Hertford,  from  his  own  long  and  unmerited  suf- 
ferings on  a  similar  account,  would  have  learned  such  a  lesson  of 
indulgence  towards  the  affections  of  his  children,  that  a  match 
of  greater  disparity  might  have  received  from  him  a  ready  for- 
giveness. But  he  inherited,  it  seems,  too  much  of  the  unfeeling 
haughtiness  of  his  high-born  mother  ;  and,  in  the  fury  of  his  re- 
sentment, on  discovery  of  this  connexion  of  his  son's,  he  made 
no  scruple  of  separating  by  force  the  young  couple,  in  direct  de- 
fiance of  the  sacred  tie  which  bound  them  to  each  other.  Lord 
Beauchamp  bore  in  the  beginning  this  arbitrary  treatment  with  a 
dutiful  submission,  by  which  he  flattered  himself  that  the  heart 
of  his  father  must  sooner  or  later  be  touched ;  but,  at  length, 
finding  all  entreaties  vain,  and  seeing  reason  to  believe  that  a 
settled  plan  was  entertained  by  the  earl  of  estranging  him  for 
ever  from  his  wife,  he  broke  on  a  sudden  from  the  solitary  man- 
sion which  had  been  assigned  him  as  his  place  of  abode,  or  of 
banishment,  and  was  hastening  to  London  to  throw  himself  at 
the  feet  of  her  majesty  and  beseech  her  interposition,  when  a 
servant  of  his  father's  overtook  and  forcibly  detained  him 

Well  aware  that  his  nearness  to  the  crown  must  have  rendered 
peculiarly  offensive  to  the  queen  what  she  would  regard  as  his 
presumption  in  marrying  without  her  knowledge  and  consent,  he 
at  first  suspected  her  majesty  as  the  author  of  this  attack  on  his 
liberty  ;  but  being  soon  informed  of  her  declaration,  "  that  he  was 
no  prisoner  of  her's,  and  the  man  had  acted  without  warrant," 
he  addressed  to  lord  Burleigh  an  earnest  petition  for  redress.  In 
this  remarkable  piece,  after  a  statement  of  his  case,  he  begs  to 
submit  himself  by  the  lord-treasurer's  means  to  the  queen  and 
council,  hoping  that  they  will  grant  him  the  benefit  of  the  laws  of 
the  realm  ;  that  it  would  please  his  lordship  to  send  for  him  by  his 
warrant;  and  that  he  might  not  be  injured  by  his  father's  men, 
though  hardly  dealt  with  by  himself.  Such  were  the  lengths  to 
which,  in  this  age,  a  parent  could  venture  to  proceed  against  his 
child,  and  such  the  measures  which  it  was  then  necessary  to  take 
in  order  to  obtain  the  protection  of  the  laws.  It  is  not  stated 
whether  lord  Beauchamp  was  at  this  time  a  minor  ;  but  if  so,  he 
probably  made  application  to  Burleigh  as  master  of  the  wards. 
Apparently,  ins  representations  were  not  without  effect ;  for  he 
procured  in  the  end  both  a  re-union  with  his  wife,  and  a  recon- 
ciliation with  his  father. 

The  grandmother  of  this  young  nobleman,  Anne  duchess-dow- 
ager of  Somerset,  died  at  a  great  age  in  1587.  Maternally  de- 
scended from  the  Plantagenets,  and  elevated  by  marriage  to  the 
highest  rank  of  English  nobility,  she  perhaps  gloried  in  the  cha- 
racter of  being  the  proudest  woman  of  her  day.  It  has  often  been 
repeated,  that  her  repugnance  to  yield  precedence  to  queen  Cathe- 
rine Parr,  when  re-married  to  theyounger  brother  of  her  husband, 
was  the  first  occasion  of  that  division  in  the  house  of  Seymour  by 


3j6 


THE  COURT  OF 


which  Northumberland  succeeded  in  working  its  overthrow  In 
the  misfortune  to  which  she  hail  thus  contributed,  the  duchess 
largely  shared.  When  the  Protector  was  committed  to  the  Tower, 
she  also  was  carried  thither  amid  the  insults  of  the  people,  to 
whom  her  arrogance  had  rendered  her  odious  ;  and  rigorous  ex- 
aminations and  an  imprisonment  of  considerable  duration  here 
awaited  her.  She  saw  her  husband  stripped  of  power  and  repu- 
tation, convicted  of  felony,  and  led  by  his  enemies  to  an  ignomi- 
nious death  ;  and  what,  to  a  woman  of  her  temper  was  perhaps  a 
still  severer  trial,  she  beheld  her  son, — that  son  for  whose  ag- 
grandisement she  had  without  remorse  urged  her  weak  husband 
to  strip  of  his  birthright  his  own  eldest  born,— dispossessed  in 
his  turn  of  title  and  estates,  and  reduced  by  an  act  of  forfeiture 
to  the  humble  level  of  a  private  gentleman. 

Her  re-marriage  to  an  obscure  person  of  the  name  of  Newdi- 
gate,  may  prove,  either  that  ambition  was  not  the  only  inordinate, 
affection  to  which  the  disposition  of  the  duchess  was  subject,  or 
that  she  was  now  reduced  to  seek  safety  in  insignificance. 

During  the  reign  of  Mary,  no  favour  beyond  an  unmolested  ob- 
scurity was  to  be  expected  by  the  protestaut  house  of  Seymour; 
but  it  was  one  of  the  earliest  acts  of  Elizabeth  generously  to  re- 
store to  Edward  Seymour  the  whole  of  the  Protector's  confiscated 
estates  not  previously  granted  to  his  elder  half-brother,  and  with 
them  the  title  of  earl  of  Hertford,  the  highest  which  his  father 
had  received  from  Henry  VIII.,  and  that  with  which  he  ought  to 
have  rested  content.  Still  no  door  was  opened  for  the  return  of 
the  duchess  of  Somerset  to  power  or  favour;  Elizabeth  never 
ceasing  to  behold  in  this  haughty  woman,  both  the  deadly  enemy 
of  admiral  Seymour — that  Seymour  who  was  the  first  to  touch  her 
youthful  heart,  and  whose  pretensions  to  her  hand  had  precipitated 
his  ruin, — and  that  rigid  censor  of  her  early  levities,  who,  dress- 
ed in  a  "  brief  authority,"  had  once  dared  to  assume  over  her  a 
kind  of  superiority,  which  she  had  treated  at  the  time  with  dis- 
dain, and  apparently  continued  to  recollect  with  bitterness. 

It  appears  from  a  letter  in  which  the  duchess  earnestly  implores 
the  intercession  of  Cecil  in  behalf  of  her  son,  when  under  con- 
finement on  account  of  his  marriage,  that  she  was,  at  the  time  of 
writing  it,  excluded  from  the  royal  presence  ;  and  it  was  nine 
whole  years  before  all  the  interest  she  could  make,  all  the  solici- 
tations which  she  compelled  herself  to  use  towards  persons  whom 
she  could  once  have  commanded  at  her  pleasure,  proved  effectual 
in  procuring  his  release.  The  vast  wealth  which  she  had  amass- 
ed must  stili,  however,  have  maintained  her  ascendency  over  her 
own  family  and  numerous  dependants,  though  with  its  final  dis- 
posal her  majesty  evinced  a  strong  disposition  to  intermeddle. 
Learning  that  she  had  appointed  her  eldest  son  sole  executor,  to 
the  prejudice  of  his  brother  sir  Henry  Seymour,  whom  she  did 
not  love,  the  queen  sent  a  gentleman  to  expostulate  with  her,  and 
urge  her  strongly  to  change  this  disposition.  The  aged  duchess, 
after  long  refusal,  agreed  at  length  to  comply  with  the  royal  wish : 
but  this  promise  she  omitted  to  fulfil,  and  some  obstruction  was 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


357 


in  consequence  given  to  the  execution  of  her  last  will.  We  pos- 
sess a  large  inventory  of  her  jewels  and  valuables,  among  which 
are  enumerated  "  two  pieces  of  unicorn's  horn,"  an  article  highly 
Valued  in  that  day,  from  its  supposed  efficacy  as  an  antidote,  or 
a  test,  for  poisons.  The  extreme  smallness  of  her  bequests  for 
charitable  purposes  was  justly  remarked  as  a  strong  indication  of 
a  harsh  and  unfeeling  disposition,  in  an  age  when  similar  benefac- 
tions formed  almost  the  sole  resource  of  the  sick  and  needy. 

In  this  year  lord-chancellor  Bromley  died  :  and  it  should  ap- 
pear that  there  was  at  the  time  no  other  lawyer  of  eminence  who 
had  the  good  fortune  to  stand  high  in  the  favour  of  the  queen  and 
her  counsellors,  for  we  are  told  that  she  had  it  in  contemplation 
to  appoint  as  his  successor  the  earl  of  Rutland  ;  a  nobleman  in 
the  thirtieth  year  of  his  age,  distinguished  indeed  among  the  cour- 
tiers for  his  proficiency  in  elegant  literature  and  his  knowledge 
of  the  laws  of  his  country,  but  known  to  the  public  only  in  the 
capacity  of  a  colonel  of  foot  in  the  bloodless  campaign  of  the  earl 
of  Sussex  against  the  Northern  rebels. 

How  far  this  young  man  might  have  been  qualified  to  do  hon- 
our to  so  extraordinary  a  choice,  remains  matter  of  conjecture ; 
his  lordship  being  carried  off"  by  a  sudden  illness  within  a  week 
of  Bromley  himself,  after  which  her  majesty  thought  proper  to 
invest  with  this  high  office  sir  Christopher  Hatton  her  vice-cham- 
berlain. 

This  was  a  nomination  scarcely  less  mortifying  to  lawyers  than 
that  of  the  earl  of  Rutland.  Hatton's  abode  at  one  of  the  inns  of 
court  had  been  so  short  as  scarcely  to  entitle  him  to  a  profes- 
sional character ;  and  since  his  fine  dancing  had  recommended 
him  to  the  favour  of  her  majesty,  he  had  entirely  abandoned  his 
legal  pursuits  for  the  life  and  the  hopes  of  a  courtier.  It  is  as- 
serted that  his  enemies  promoted  his  appointment  with  more  zeal 
than  his  friends,  in, the  confident  expectation  of  seeing  him  dis- 
grace himself :  what  may  be  regarded  as  more  certain  is,  that  he 
was  so  disquieted  by  intimations  of  the  queen's  repenting  her 
choice,  that  he  tendered  to  her  his  resignation  before  he  entered 
on  the  duties  of  his  office  ;  and  that  in  the  beginning  of  his  career 
the  Serjeants  refused  to  plead  before  him.  But  he  soon  found 
means  both  to  vanquish  their  repugnance  and  to  establish  in  the 
public  mind  an  opinion  of  his  integrity  and  sufficiency,  which 
served  to  redeem  his  sovereign  from  the  censure  or  ridicule  to 
which  this  extraordinary  choice  seemed  likely  to  expose  her.  He 
had  the  wisdom  to  avail  himself,  in  all  cases  of  peculiar  difficulty, 
of  the  advice  of  two  learned  Serjeants; — in  other  matters  he 
might  reasonably  regard  his  own  prudence  and  good  sense  as 
competent  guides.  In  fact,  it  was  only  since  the  reformation, 
that  "this  great  office  had  begun  to  be  filled* by  common-law  law- 
yers: before  this  period  it  was  usually  exercised  by  some  eccle- 
siastic who  was  also  a  civilian,  and  instances  were  not  rare  of 
the  seals  having  been  held  in  commission  by  noblemen  during 
considerable  intervals  ; — facts  which,  in  justice  to  Hatton  and  to 
Elizabeth,  ought,  on  this  occasion,  to  be  kept  in  mind. 


358 


THE  COURT  OF 


The  pride  of  Leicester  had  been  deeply  wounded  by  the  cir- 
cumstances of  that  forced  return  from  Holland,  which,  notwith- 
standing all  his  artful  endeavours  to  colour  it  to  the  world,  was 
perfectly  understood  at  court  as  a  disgraceful  recal. 

The  queen,  in  the  first  emotions  of  indignation  and  disap 
pointment.  called  forth  by  his  ill  success,  had  in  public  made  use 
of  expressions  respecting  his  conduct,  of  which  he  well  knew 
that  the  effect  could  only  be  obviated  by  some  mark  of  favour 
equally  public :  and  he  spared  no  labour  for  the  accomplishment 
of  this  object.  By  an  extraordinary  exertion  of  that  influence 
over  her  majesty's  affections  which  enabled  him  to  hold  her 
judgment  in  lasting  captivity,  he  was  at  length  successful,  and 
the  honourable  and  lucrative  place  of  chief  justice  in  Eyre  of 
all  the  forests  south  of  Trent  was  bestowed  upon  him  early  in 
1587.  So  far  was  well ;  but  he  disdained  to  rest  satisfied  with 
less  than  the  restitution  of  that  supreme  command  over  the  Dutch 
provinces  which  had  flattered  his  vanity  with  a  title  never  borne 
by  Englishman  before ;  that  of  Excellence.  His  usual  arts  pre- 
vailed in  this  instance  likewise.  By  means  of  the  authority 
which  he  had  surreptitiously  reserved  to  himself,  he  held  the  go- 
vernors of  towns  and  forts  in  Holland  in  complete  dependence, 
whilst  his  solemn  ostentation  of  religion  had  secured  the  zealous 
attachment  of  the  protestant  clergy;  an  order  which  then  exerted 
an  important  influence  over  public  opinion.  It  had  thus  been 
in  his  power  to  raise  a  strong  faction  in  the  country,  through  the 
instrumentality  of  which  he  raised  such  impediments  to  the  mea- 
sures of  administration,  that  the  states-general  saw  themselves 
at  length  compelled,  as  the  smaller  of  two  evils,  to  solicit  the 
queen  for  his  return.  It  was  a  considerable  time  before  she 
could  be  brought  to  sanction  a  step  of  which  her  sagest  counsel- 
lors, secretly  hostile  to  Leicester,  laboured  to  demonstrate  the 
entire  inexpediency.  The  affairs  of  Holland  suffered  at  once  by 
the  dissentions  which  the  malice  of  Leicester  had  sown,  and  by 
the  long  irresolution  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  she  at  length  sent  over 
lord  Buckhurst  to  make  inquiry  into  some  measures  of  the  States 
which  had  given  her  umbrage,  and  to  report  upon  the  whole 
matter. 

The  sagacious  and  upright  statesman  was  soon  satisfied  where 
the  blame  ought  to  rest,  and  he  suggested  a  plan  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  country  which  excluded  the  idea  of  Leicester's  re- 
turn. But  the  intrigues  of  the  favourite  finally  prevailed,  and 
he  was  authorised  in  June  1587,  to  resume  a  station  of  which  he 
had  proved  himself  equally  incapable  and  unworthy,  having  pre- 
viously been  further  gratified  by  her  majesty  with  the  office  of 
lord  high-steward,  and  with  permission  to  resign  that  of  master 
of  the  horse  to  his  step-son  the  earl  of  Essex.  But  fortune  dis- 
dained to  smile  upon  his  arms ;  and  his  failure  in  an  attempt  to 
raise  the  siege  of  Sluys  produced  such  an  exasperation  of  his 
former  quarrel  with  the  states,  that  in  the  month  of  November 
the  queen  found  herself  compelled  to  supersede  him,  appointing 
the  brave  lord  Willoughby  captain-general  in  his  place. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


359 


On  his  return  to  England,  Leicester  found  Lord  Buckhurst 
preparing  against  him  a  charge  of  malversation  in  Holland,  and 
he  received  a  summons  to  justify  himself  before  the  privy-council : 
but  he  better  consulted  his  safety  by  flying  for  protection  to  the 
footstool  of  the  throne.  The  queen,  touched  by  his  expressions 
of  humility  and  sorrow,  and  his  earnest  entreaties  "that  she 
would  not  receive  with  disgrace  on  his  return,  him  whom  she 
had  sent  forth  with  honour,  nor  bring  down  alive  to  the  grave 
one  whom  her  former  goodness  had  raised  from  the  dust,"  con- 
sented once  again  to  receive  him  into  wonted  favour.  Nor  was 
this  all ;  for  on  the  day  when  he  was  expected  to  give  in  his  an- 
swer before  the  council,  he  appeared  in  his  place,  and  bv  a  tri- 
umphant appeal  to  her  majesty,  whose  secret  orders  limited,  as 
he  asserted,  his  public  commission,  baffled  at  once  the  hopes  of 
his  enemies  and  the  claims  of  public  justice.  What  was  still 
more  gross,  he  was  suffered  to  succeed  in  procuring  a  censure  to 
be  passed  upon  lord  Buckhurst,  who  continued  in  disgrace  for 
the  nine  remaining  months  of  Leicester's  life,  during  which  a 
royal  command  restrained  him  within  his  house.  Elizabeth  must 
in  this  instance  have  known  her  own  injustice  even  while  she 
was  committing  it ;  but  by  the  loyal  and  chivalrous  nobility,  who 
knelt  before  the  footstool  of  the  maiden  queen,  "  her  butfets  and 
rewards  were  ta'en  with  equal  thanks  ;"  and  Abbot,  the  chaplain 
of  lord  Buckhurst,  has  recorded  of  his  patron,  that  "  so  obsequious 
was  he  to  this  command,  that  in  all  the  time  he  never  would 
endure,  openly  or  secretly,  by  day  or  night,  to  see  either  wife  or 
child."  He  had  his  reward ;  for  no  sooner  was  the  queen  re- 
stored to  liberty  by  the  death  of  her  imperious  favourite,  than 
she  released  her  kinsman;  honoured  him  with  the  garter,  pro- 
cured, two  years  after,  his  election  to  the  chancellorship  of  the 
university  of  Oxford,  and  finally  appointed  him  Burleigh's  suc- 
cessor in  the  honourable  and  lucrative  post  of  lord  treasurer. 

During  the  unavoidable  delay  which  the  expedition  of  Drake 
had  brought  to  the  designs  of  Philip  II.  the  prince  of  Parma  had 
by  his  master's  directions  been  endeavouring  to  amuse  the  vigi- 
lance of  Elizabeth  with  overtures  of  negotiation.  The  queen,  at 
the  request  of  the  prince,  sent  plenipotentiaries  to  treat  with 
him  in  Flanders ;  and  though  the  Hollanders  absolutely  refused 
to  enter  into  the  treaty,  they  proceeded  with  apparent  earnest- 
ness in  the  task  of  settling  preliminaries.  Some  writers  maintain, 
that  there  was,  from  the  beginning,  as  little  sincerity  on  one  side 
as  on  the  other ;  to  gain  time  for  the  preparations  of  attack  or 
defence,  being  the  sole  object  of  both  parties  in  these  manoeuvres. 
Yet  the  cautious  and  pacific  character  of  the  policy  of  Elizabeth, 
and  the  secret  dread  which  she  ever  entertained  of  a  serious  con- 
test with  the  power  of  Spain,  seem  to  render  it  more  probable 
that  the  wish  and  hope  of  an  accommodation  was  at  first  on  her 
side  real ;  and  that  the  fears  of  the  States  that  their  interests 
might  become  the  sacrifice,  must  have  been  by  no  means  desti- 
tute of  foundation.  Leicester  is  said  to  have  had  the  merit  of 
first  opening  the  eyes  of  his  sovereign  to  the  fraudulent  conduc  t 


360 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  the  prince  of  Parma, — who  in  fact  was  furnished  with  no  pow- 
ers to  treat, — and  to  Have  earned  for  himself  by  this  discovery 
the  restoration  of  her  favour. 

In  March  1-588  these  conferences  broke  off  abruptly.  It  was 
impossible  for  either  party  longer  to  deceive  or  to  act  the  being 
deceived  ;  for  all  Europe  now  rang  with  the  mighty  preparations 
of  king  Philip  for  the  conquest  of  England  ; — preparations  which 
occupied  the  whole  of  his  vast  though  disjointed  empire,  from  the 
Flemish  provinces  which  still  owned  his  yoke,  to  the  distant 
ports  of  Sicily  and  Naples. 

The  spirit  of  the  English  people  rose  with  the  emergency. 
All  ranks  and  orders  vied  with  each  other  in  an  eager  devoted- 
ness  to  the  sacred  cause  of  national  independence :  the  rich 
poured  forth  their  treasures  with  unsparing  hand  ;  the  chivalrous 
and  young  rushed  on  board  ships  of  their  own  equipment,  a  band 
of  generous  volunteers  ;  the  poor  demanded  arms  to  exterminate 
every  invader  who  should  set  foot  on  English  ground  ;  while  the 
clergy  animated  their  audience  against  the  pope  and  the  Span- 
iard, and  invoked  a  blessing  on  the  holy  warfare  of  their  fellow- 
citizens.  Elizabeth,  casting  aside  all  her  weaknesses,  showed 
herself  worthy  to  be  the  queen  and  heroine  of  such  a  people. 
Her  prudence,  her  vigilance,  her  presence  of  mind,  which  failed 
not  for  a  moment,  inspired  unbounded  confidence,  while  her 
cheerful  countenance  and  spirited  demeanour  breathed  hope  and 
courage  and  alacrity  into  the  coldest  bosoms.  Never  did  a  sove- 
reign enter  upon  a  great  and  awful  contest  with  a  more  strenuous 
resolution  to  fulfil  all  duties,  to  confront  all  perils ;  never  did  a 
people  repay  with  such  ardour  of  gratitude,  such  enthusiasm  of 
attachment,  the  noblest  virtues  of  a  prince. 

The  best  troops  of  the  country  were  at  this  time  absent  in 
Flanders ;  and  there  was  no  standing  army  except  the  queen's 
guard  and  the  garrisons  kept  in  a  few  forts  on  the  coast  or  the 
Scottish  border.  The  royal  navy  was  extremely  small,  and  the 
revenues  of  the  crown  totally  inadequate  to  the  effort  of  raising 
it  to  any  thing  approaching  a  parity  with  the  fleets  of  Spain.  The 
queen  possessed  not  a  single  ally  on  the  continent  capable  of 
affording  her  aid  ;  she  doubted  the  fidelity  of  the  king  of  Scots  to 
her  interests,  and  a  formidable  mass  of  disaffection  was  believed 
to  subsist  among  her  own  subjects  of  the  catholic  communion. 
It  was  on  the  spontaneous  efforts  of  individuals  that  the  whole 
safety  of  the  country  at  this  momentous  crisis  was  left  depen- 
dent :  if  these  failed,  England  was  lost ; — but  in  such  a  cause, 
at  such  a  juncture,  they  could  not  fail ;  and  the  first  appeal  made 
by  government  to  the  patriotism  of  the  people  was  answered  with 
that  spirit  in  which  a  nation  is  invincible.  A  message  was  sent 
by  the  privy  council  to  inquire  of  the  corporation  of  London 
what  the  city  would  be  willing  to  undertake  for  the  public  ser- 
vice. The  corporation  requested  to  be  informed  what  the  council 
might  judge  requisite  in  such  a  case.  Fifteen  ships  and  five  . 
thousand  men  was  the  answer.  Two  days  after,  the  city  "hum- 
bly intreated  the  council,  in  sign  of  their  perfect  love  and  loy- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


361 


alty,  to  prince  and  country,  to  accept  ten  thousand  men  and 
thirty  ships  amply  furnished."  "  And,"  adds  the  chronicler, 
'  even  as  London,  London-like,  gave  precedent,  the  whole  king- 
dom kept  true  rank  and  equipage."  At  this  time,  the  able- 
bodied  men  in  the  capital  between  the  ages  of  eighteen  and  sixty 
amounted  to  no  more  than  17,083. 

Without  entering  into  further  detail  respecting  the  particular 
contributions  of  different  towns  or  districts  to  the  common  de- 
fence, it  is  sufficient  to  remark,  that  every  sinew  was  strained, 
and  that  little  was  left  to  the  charge  of  government  but  the  task 
of  arranging  and  applying  the  abundant  succours  furnished  by 
the  zeal  of  the  country.  One  trait  of  the  times,  however,  it  is  es- 
se tit ial  to  commemorate.  Terror  is  perhaps  the  most  merciless 
of  all  sentiments,  and  that  which  is  least  restrained  either  by 
shame  or  a  sense  of  justice;  and  under  this  debasing  influence 
some  of  the  queen's  advisers  did  not  hesitate  to  suggest,  that  in 
a  crisis  so  desperate,  she  ought  to  consult  her  own  safety  and  that 
of  the  country,  by  seeking  pretexts  to  take  away  the  lives  of  some 
of  the  leading  catholics.  They  cited  in  support  of  this  atrocious 
proposal  the  example  of  Henry  VIII.  her  father,  who,  before  his 
departure  for  the  French  wars,  had  without  scruple  brought  to 
the  block  his  own  cousin  the  marquis  of  Exeter  and  several 
others,  whose  chief  crime  was  their  attachment  to  the  ancient 
faith,  and  their  enjoying  a  degree  of  popularity  which  might 
enable  them  to  raise  commotions  in  his  absence. 

Elizabeth  rejected  with  horror  these  suggestions  of  cowardice 
and  cruelty,  at  the  same  time  that  she  omitted  no  measures  of 
precaution  which  she  regarded  as  justifiable.  The  existing  laws 
against  priests  and  seminary  men  were  enforced  with  vigilance 
and  severity,  all  popish  recusants  were  placed  under  close  in- 
spection, and  a  considerable  number  of  those  accounted  most 
formidable  were  placed  under  safe  custody  in  Wisbeach-castle. 

To  these  gentlemen,  however,  the  queen  caused  it  to  be  inti- 
mated, that  the  step  which  she  had  taken  was  principally  de- 
signed for  their  protection,  since  it  was  greatly  to  be  apprehend- 
ed, that,  in  the  event  of  landing  of  the  Spaniards,' the  Roman 
catholics  might  become  the  victims  of  some  ebullition  of  popular 
fury  which  it  would  not  then  be  in  the  power  of  government  to 
repress. 

This  lenient  proceeding  on  the  part  of  her  majesty  was  pro- 
ductive of  the  best  effects  ;  the  catholics  who  remained  at  liberty 
became  earnest  to  prove  themselves  possessed  of  that  spirit  of 
patriotism  and  loyalty  for  which  she  had  given  them  credit. 
Some  entered  the  ranks  as  volunteers  ;  others  armed  and  encou- 
raged their  tenantry  and  dependants  for  the  defence  of  their 
country ;  several  even  fitted  out  vessels  at  their  own  expense, 
and  intrusted  the  command  of  them  to  protestant  officers  on  whom 
the  government  could  entirely  rely. 

After  the  defeat  of  the  armada,  the  prisoners  at  Wisbeach- 
castle,  having  signed  the  submission  required  by  law  of  such  as 

Z  z 


THE  COURT  OF 


had  offended  in  hearing  mass  and  absenting  themselves  from 
church,  petitioned  the  privy-council  for  their  liberty;  but  a  bond 
for  good  behaviour  being  further  demanded  of  them,  with  the 
condition  of  being  obedient  to  such  orders  as  six  members  of 
the  privy-council  should  write  down  respecting  them,  they  re- 
fused to  comply  with  such  terms  of  enlargement,  and  remained 
iu  custody.  As  the  submission  which  they  had  tendered  volun- 
tarily was  in  terms  apparently  no  less  strong  than  the  bond  which 
they  refused,  it  was  conjectured  that  the  former  piece  had  been 
drawn  up  by  their  ghostly  fathers  with  some  private  equivocation 
or  mental  reservation ;  a  suspicion  which  receives  strong  confir- 
mation from  the  characters  and  subsequent  conduct  of  some  of 
these  persons, — the  most  noted  fanatics  certainly  of  their  party, 
and  amongst  whom  we  read  the  names  of  Talbot,  Catesby,  and 
Tresham,  afterwards  principal  conspirators  in  the  detestable 
gun-powder  plot.* 

The  ships  equipped  by  the  nobility  and  gentry  to  combat  the 
armada  amounted  in  the  whole  to  forty-three,  and  it  was  on 
board  these  vessels  that  young  men  of  the  noblest  blood  and 
highest  hopes  now  made  their  first  essay  in  arms.  In  this  num- 
ber may  be  distinguished  George  Clifford  third  earl  of  Cumber- 
land, one  of  the  most  remarkable,  if  not  the  greatest,  characters 
of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth. 

The  illustrious  race  of  Clifford  takes  origin  from  William  duke 
of  Normandy ;  in  a  later  age  its  blood  was  mingled  with  that  of 
the  Plantagenets  by  the  intermarriage  of  the  seventh  lord  de 
Clifford  and  a  daughter  of  the  celebrated  Hotspur  by  Elizabeth 
his  wife,  whose  father  was  Edward  Mortimer  earl  of  March.  Not- 
withstanding this  alliance  with  the  house  of  York,  two  successive 
lords  de  Clifford  were  slain  in  the  civil  wars  fighting  strenuously 
on  the  Lancastrian  side.  It  was  to  the  younger  of  these,  whose 
sanguinary  spirit  gained  him  the  surname  of  the  Butcher,  that  the 
barbarous  murder  of  the  young  earl  of  Rutland  was  popularly  im- 
puted ;  and  a  well  founded  dread  of  the  vengeance  of  the  Yorkists 
caused  his  widow  to  conceal  his  son  and  heir  under  the  lowly 
disguise  of  a  shepherd-boy,  in  which  condition  he  grew  up  among 
the  fells  of  Westmoreland  totally  illiterate,  and  probably  unsus- 
picious of  his  origin. 

At  the  end  of  five-and -twenty  years,  the  restoration  of  the 
line  of  Lancaster  in  the  person  of  Henry  VII.  restored  to  lord 
de  Clifford  the  name,  rank,  and  large  possessions  of  his  ances- 
tors;  but  the  peasant-noble  preferred  through  life  that  rustic  ob- 
scurity in  which  his  character  had  been  formed  and  his  habits 
fixed,  to  the  splendours  of  a  court  or  the  turmoils  of  ambition. 
He  kept  aloof  from  the  capital  ;  and  it  was  only  on  the  field  of 
Floden,  to  which  he  led  in  person  his  hardy  tenantry,  that  this 
de  Clifford  exhibited  some  sparks  of  the  warlike  fire  inherent  in 
his  race. 

His  successor,  by  qualities  very  different  from  the  homely 


*  Life  of  Whitgift  by  Slrype. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


36S 


virtues  which  had  obtained  for  his  father  among  his  tenantry  and 
neighbours  the  surname  of  the  Good,  recommended  himself  to 
the  special  favour  of  Henry  VIII.,  who  created  him  earl  of  Cum 
bcrland,  and  matched  his  heir  to  his  own  niece  lady  Eleanoi 
Brandon.  The  sole  fruit  of  this  illustrious  alliance,  which  in 
volved  the  earl  in  an  almost  ruinous  course  of  expense,  was  a 
daughter,  who  afterwards  became  the  mother  of  Ferdinand o  ear! 
of  Derby,  a  nobleman  whose  mysterious  and  untimely  fate  re- 
mains to  be  hereafter  related.  By  a  second  and  better-assorted 
marriage,  the  earl  of  Cumberland  became  the  father  of  George, 
his  successor,  our  present  subject,  who  proved  the  most  remark- 
able of  this  distinguished  family.  The  death  of  his  father  during 
his  childhood  had  brought  him  under  wardship  to  the  queen  ;  and 
by  her  command  he  was  sent  to  pursue  his  studies  at  Peterhouse, 
Cambridge,  under  Whitgift,  afterwards  primate.  Here  he  ap- 
plied himself  with  ardour  to  the  mathematics,  and  it  was  appa- 
rently the  bent  of  his  genius  towards  these  studies  which  first 
caused  him  to  turn  his  attention  to  nautical  matters.  An  enter- 
prising spirit  and  a  turn  for  all  the  fashionable  profusions  of  the 
day,  which  speedily  plunged  him  in  pecuniary  embarrassments, 
added  incitements  on  his  activity  in  these  pursuits  ;  and  in  1580 
he  fitted  out  three  ships  and  a  pinance  to  cruise  against  the  Spa- 
niards and  plunder  their  settlements.  It  appears  extraordinary 
that  he  did  not  assume  in  person  the  command  of  his  little 
squadron;  but  combats  and  triumphs  perhaps  still  more  glorious 
in  his  estimation  awaited  him  on  the  smoother  element  of  the 
court. 

In  the  games  of  chivalry  he  bore  off  the  prize  of  courage  and 
dexterity  from  all  his  peers  ;  the  romantic  band  of  knights-ti Iters 
boasted  of  him  as  one  of  its  brightest  ornaments,  and  her  majesty 
deigned  to  encourage  his  devotedness  to  her  glory  by  an  envied 
pledge  of  favour. 

As  he  stood  or  kneeled  before  her,  she  dropped  her  glove,  per- 
haps not  undesignedly,  and  on  his  picking  it  up,  graciously  de- 
sired him  to  keep  it.  He  caused  the  trophy  to  be  encircled  with 
diamonds,  and  ever  after  at  all  tilts  and  tourneys  bore  it  con- 
spicuously placed  in  front  of  his  high-crowned  hat. 

But  the  emergencies  of  the  year  1588,  summoned  him  to  re- 
sign the  fopperies  of  an  antiquated  knight-errantry  for  serious 
warfare  and  the  exercise  of  genuine  valour.  Taking  upon  him 
the  command  of  a  ship,  he  joined  the  fleet  appointed  to  hang 
upon  the  motions  of  the  Spanish  armada  and  harass  it  in  its  pro- 
gress up  the  British  Channel ;  and  on  several  occasions,  especi- 
ally in  the  last  action,  otf  Calais,  he  signalised  himself  by  un- 
common exertions. 

In  reward  of  his  services,  her  majesty  granted  him  her  royal 
commission  to  pursue  a  voyage  to  the  South  Sea,  which  he  had 
already  projected  ;  she  even  lent  him  for  the  occasion  one  of  her 
own  ships  ;  and  thus  encouraged,  he  commenced  that  long  series 
of  naval  enterprises  which  has  given  him  an  enduring  name. 
After  two  or  three  voyages  he  constantly  declined  her  majesty's 


THE  COURT  OF 


gracious  offers  of  the  loan  of  her  ships,  because  they  were  accoin 
panied  with  the  express  condition  that  he  should  never  lay  any 
vessel  of  hers  on -board  a  Spanish  one,  lest  both  should  be  de- 
stroyed by  fire.  Such  was  the  character  of  mingled  penurious- 
ness  and  timidity  which  pervaded  the  maritime  policy  of  this 
great  princess,  even  after  the  defeat  of  the  armada  had  demon- 
strated that,  ship  for  ship,  her  navy  might  defy  the  world  ! 

At  this  period,  all  attempts  against  the  power  and  prosperity 
of  Spain  were  naturally  regarded  with  high  favour  ami  admira- 
tion ;  and  it  cannot  be  dented  that  in  his  long  and  hazardous  ex- 
peditions the  earl  of  Cumberland  evinced  high  courage,  undaunt- 
ed enterprise,  and  an  extraordinary  share  of  perseverance  under 
repeated  failures,  disappointments,  and  hardships  of  every  kind. 
It  is  also  true  that  his  vigorous  attacks  embarrassed  extremely 
the  intercourse  of  Spain  with  her  colonies ;  and,  besides  the  direct 
injury  which  they  inflicted,  compelled  this  power  to  incur  an 
immense  additional  expense  for  the  protection  of  her  treasure 
ships  and  settlements.  But  the  benefit  to  England  was  compa- 
ratively trifling;  and  to  the  earl  himself,  notwithstanding  occa- 
sional captures  of  great  value,  his  voyages  were  far  from  produc- 
ing any  lasting  advantage  ;  they  scarcely  icpaid  on  the  whole 
the  cost  of  equipment ;  while  the  influx  of  sudden  wealth  with 
which  they  sometimes  gratified  him,  only  ministered  food  to  that 
magnificent  profusion  in  which  he  finally  squandered  both  his 
acquisitions  and  his  patrimony.  None  of  the  liberal  and  enlight- 
ened views  which  had  prompted  the  efforts  of  the  great  naviga- 
tors of  this  and  a  preceding  age  appear  to  have  had  any  share  in 
the  enterprises  of  the  earl  of  Cumberland.  Even  the  thirst  of 
martial  glory  seems  in  him  to  have  been  subordinate  to  the  love 
of  gain,  and  that  appetite  for  rapine  to  which  his  loose  and  ex- 
travagant habits  had  given  the  force  of  a  passion. 

He  had  formed,  early  in  life,  an  attachment  to  the  beautiful 
daughter  of  that  worthy  character  and  rare  exemplar  of  old  En- 
glish hospitality,  sir  William  Holies,  ancestor  to  the  earls  of 
Clare  of  that  surname  ;  but  her  father,  from  a  singular  pride  of 
independence,  refused  to  listen  to  his  proposals,  saying  "  that  he 
would  not  have  to  stand  cap  in  hand  to  his  son-in-law;  his 
daughter  should  marry  a  good  gentleman  with  whom  he  might 
have  society  and  friendship."  Disappointed  thus  of  the  object 
of  his  affections,  he  matched  himself  with  a  daughter  of  the  earl 
of  Bedford  ;  a  woman  of  merit,  as  it  appears,  but  whom  their  mu- 
tual indifference  precluded  from  exerting  over  him  any  salutaiy 
influence.  As  a  husband,  he  proved  both  unfaithful  and  cruel  ; 
and  separating  himself  after  a  few  years  from  his  countess,  on 
pretence  of  incompatibility  of  tempers,  he  suffered  her  to  pine 
not  only  in  desertion,  but  in  poverty.  We  shall  hereafter  have 
occasion  to  view  this  celebrated  earl  in  the  idly-solemn  personage 
of  queen's  champion  ;  meantime,  he  must  be  dismissed  with  no 
more  of  applause  than  may  be  challenged  by  a  character  signally 
deficient  in  the  guiding  and  restraining  virtues,  and  endowed 
with  such  a  share  only  of  the  more  active  ones  as  served  to  ren- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


365 


der  it  conspicuous  and  glittering  rather  than  truly  and  perma- 
nently illustrious. 

Henry  earl  of  Northumberland  likewise  joined  the  fleet* oft 
board  a  vessel  hired  by  himself.  Immediately  after  the  fatal 
catastrophe  of  his  father  in  1585,  this  young  nobleman,  anxious 
apparently  to  efface  the  stigma  of  popery  and  disaffection  stamp- 
ed by  the  rash  attempts  of  his  uncle  and  father  on  the  gallant 
name  of  Percy,  had  seized  the  opportunity  of  embarking  with 
Leicester  for  the  wars  of  the  Low  Countries.  He  now  sought 
distinction  on  another  element,  and  in  a  cause  still  nearer  to  the 
hearts  of  Englishmen.  The  conversion  to  protestantism  and 
loyalty  of  the  head  of  such  a  house  could  not  but  be  regarded  b;v 
Elizabeth  with  feelings  of  peculiar  complacency,  and  in  1593. 
she  was  pleased  to.  confer  upon  the  earl  the  insignia  of  the  gar- 
ter.  He  was  present  in  1 601 ,  at  the  siege  of  Ostend,  where  he 
considered  himself  as  so  much  aggrieved  by  the  conduct  of  sir 
Francis  Vere,  that  on  the  return  of  this  officer  to  England  he 
sent  him  a  challenge.  During  the  decline  of  the  queen's  health, 
Northumberland  was  distinguished  by  the  warmth  with  which 
he  embraced  the  interests  of  the  king  of  Scots,  and  he  was  the 
first  privy-councillor  named  by  James  on  his  accession  to  the 
English  throne.  But  the  fate  of  his  family  seemed  still  to  pur- 
sue him :  on  some  unsupported  charges  connected  with  the  gun- 
powder plot,  he  was  stripped  of  all  his  offices,  heavily  fined,  and 
sentenced  to  perpetual  imprisonment:  the  tardy  mercy  of  the 
king  procured  however  his  release  at  the  end  of  fifteen  years, 
and  he  spent  the  remnant  of  his  life  in  tranquil  and  honourable 
retirement.  This  unfortunate  nobleman  was  a  man  of  parts :  the 
abundant  leisure  for  intellectual  pursuits  afforded  by  his  long 
captivity  was  chiefly  employed  by  him  in  the  study  of  the  mathe- 
matics, including  perhaps  the  occult  sciences ;  and  as  he  was  per- 
mitted to  enjoy  freely  the  conversation  of  such  men  of  learning 
as  he  wished  to  assemble  around  him,  he  became  one  of  their 
most  bountiful  patrons. 

Thomas  Cecil,  eldest  son  of  the  lord-treasurer,  formerly  a 
volunteer  in  the  expedition  to  Scotland  undertaken  in  favour  ot 
the  regent  Murray,  and  more  recently  appointed  governor  of  the 
Brill  in  consideration  of  his  services  in  the  war  in  Flanders,  also 
embarked  to  repel  the  invaders  ;  as  did  Robert  his  half-brother, 
the  afterwards  celebrated  secretary  of  state  created  earl  of  Sa- 
lisbury by  James  I. 

Robert  Cecil  was  deformed  in  his  person,  of  a  feeble  and  sickly 
constitution,  and  entirely  devoted  to  the  study  of  politics  ;  and 
nothing,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  but  his  steady  determination  of 
omitting  no  means  of  attracting  to  himself  that  royal  favour 
which  he  contemplated  as  the  instrument  by  which  to  work  out 
his  future  fortunes,  could  have  engaged  him  in  a  service  so  re- 
pugnant to  his  habits  and  pursuits,  and  for  which  the  hand  of  na. 
ture  herself  had  so  evidently  disabled  him. 

The  earl  of  Oxford,  in  expiation  perhaps  of  some  of  those  vio- 
lences of  temper  and  irregularities  of  conduct  by  which  he  was 


366 


THE  COURT  OF 


perpetually  offending  the  queen  and  obstructing  his  own  advance 
ment  in  the  state,  equipped  on  this  occasion  a  vessel  which  he 
commanded. 

Sir  Charles  Blount,  notwithstanding  the  narrowness  of  his  pre- 
sent fortunes,  judged  it  incumbent  on  him  to  give  a  similar  proof 
of  attachment  to  his  queen  and  country ;  and  the  circumstance 
affords  an  occasion  of  introducing  to  the  notice  of  the  reader  one 
of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  court  of  Elizabeth. 

This  distinguished  gentleman,  now  in  the  twenty-fifth  year 
of  his  age,  was  the  second  son  of  James  sixth  lord  Montjoy 
of  the  ancient  Norman  name  of  Le  Blonde,  corruptly  writ- 
ten Blount.  The  family  history  might  serve  as  a  commen- 
tary on  the  reigning  follies  of  the  English  court  during  two  or 
three  generations.  His  grandfather,  a  splendid  courtier,  con- 
sumed his  resources  on  the  ostentatious  equipage  with  which  he 
attended  to  the  French  wars  his  master  Henry  VIII.,  with  whom 
he  had  the  misfortune  to  be  a  favourite.  His  father  squandered 
a  diminished  patrimony  still  more  absurdly  in  his  search  after 
the  philosopher's  stone ;  and  the  ruin  of  the  family  was  so  con- 
summated by  the  ill-timed  prodigalities  of  his  elder  brother,  that 
when  his  death  without  children  in  1594,  transmitted  the  title  of 
lord  Montjoy  to  sir  Charles,  a  thousand  marks  was  the  whole 
amount  of  the  inheritance  by  w  hich  this  honour  was  to  be  main- 
tained. It  is  needless  to  add  that  the  younger  brother's  portion 
with  which  he  set  out  in  life  was  next  to  nothing.  Having  thus 
his  own  way  to  make,  he  immediately  after  completing  his  edu- 
cation at  Oxford  entered  himself  of  the  Inner  Temple,  as  mean- 
ing to  pur&ue  the  profession  of  the  law  :  but  fortune  had  ordain- 
ed his  destiny  otherwise  ;  and  being  led  by  his  curiosity  to  visit 
the  court,  he  there  found  "  a  pretty  strange  kind  of  admission," 
which  cannot  be  related  with  more  vivacity  than  in  the  ori- 
ginal words  of  Naunton.  "  He  was  then  much  about  twenty 
years  of  age,  of  a  brown  hair,  a  sweet  face,  a  most  neat  compo- 
sure, and  tall  in  his  person.  The  queen  was  then  at  Whitehall 
and  at  dinner,  whither  he  came  to  see  the  fashion  of  the  court. 
The  queen  had  soon  found  him  out,  and  with  a  kind  of  an  affect- 
ed frown  asked  the  lady  carver  who  he  was  ?  She  answered, 
she  knew  him  not;  insomuch  that  enquiry  was  made  from  one  to 
another  who  he  might  be,  till  at  length  it  was  told  the  queen  that 
he  was  brother  to  the  lord  William  Mountjoy.  This  inquisition, 
with  the  eye  of  majesty  fixed  upon  him,  (as  she  was  wont  to  do 
to  daunt  men  she  knew  not,)  stirred  the  blood  of  this  young  gen- 
tleman, insomuch  as  his  colour  went  and  came;  which  the  queen 
observing  called  him  unto  her,  and  gave  him  her  hand  to  kiss, 
encouraging  him  with  gracious  words  and  new  looks  ;  and  so 
diverting  her  speech  to  the  lords  and  ladies,  she  said,  that  she 
no  sooner  observed  him,  but  that  she  knew  there  was  in  him 
some  noble  blood,  with  some  other  expressions  of  pity  towards 
his  house.  And  then  again,  demanding  his  name,  she  said,  '  Fail 
you  not  to  come  to  the  court,  and  I  will  bethink  myself  how  to 
do  you  good.'    And  this  was  his  inlet,  and  the  beginning  of  his 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


367 


grace."  It  does  not  appear  what  boon  the  queen  immediately 
bestowed  upon  her  new  courtier  ;  but  he  deserted  the  profession 
of  the  law,  sat  in  the  parliaments  of  1585  and  1586,  as  the  re- 
presentative of  two  different  Cornish  boroughs,  received  in  the 
latter  year  the  honour  of  knighthood,  and  soon  after  his  present 
expedition  appeared  considerable  enough  at  court  to  provoke  the 
hostility  of  the  earl  of  Essex  himself.  Raleigh,  now  high  in  fa- 
vour, and  invested  with  the  offices  of  captain  of  the  queen's 
guard  and  her  lieutenant  for  Cornwall,  had  been  actively  engaged 
since  the  last  year  in  training  to  arms  the  militia  of  that  county. 
He  had  also  been  employed,  as  a  member  of  the  council  of  war, 
in  concerting  the  general  plan  of  national  defence:  but  his  ar- 
dent and  adventurous  valour  prompted  him  to  aid  his  country  in 
her  hour  of  trial  on  both  elements,  and  with  hand  as  well  as  head: 
throwing  himself  therefore  into  a  vessel  of  his  own  which  waited 
his  orders,  he  hastened  to  share  in  the  discomfiture  of  her  insult- 
ing foe. 

But  it  would  be  endless  to  enumerate  all  who  spontaneously 
came  forward  to  partake  the  perils  and  the  glory  of  this  ever- 
memorable  contest;  and  the  naval  commanders  of  principal  emi 
nence  have  higher  claims  to  our  notice. 

The  dignity  of  lord-high-admiral, — customarily  conferred  on 
mere  men  of  rank,  in  whom  not  the  slightest  tincture  of  profes- 
sional knowledge  was  required  or  expected, — at  this  critical  junc- 
ture belonged  to  Charles  second  lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  of 
whom  we  have  formerly  spoken,  and  who  appears  never  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  life  to  have  been  at  sea  but  once  before,  and 
that  only  on  an  occasion  of  ceremony.  He  was  every  way  an 
untried  man,  and  as  yet  distinguished  for  nothing  except  the  ac- 
complishments of  a  courtier :  but  he  exhibited  on  trial,  courage, 
resolution,  and  conduct ;  an  affability  of  manner  which  endeared 
him  to  the  sailors;  and  a  prudent  sense  of  his  own  inexperience, 
which  rendered  him  perfectly  docile  to  the  counsels  of  those  ex- 
cellent sea-officfcrs  by  whom  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  him- 
self surrounded.  He  encouraged  his  crew,  and  manifested  his 
alacrity  in  the  service,  by  putting  his  own  hand  to  the  rope  which 
was  to  tow  his  ship  out  of  harbour ;  and  he  afterwards  gave  proof 
of  his  good  sense  and  his  patriotism,  by  his  opposition  to  the  or- 
ders which  her  majesty's  excess  of  ceconomy  led  her  to  issue  on 
the  first  dispersion  of  the  armada  by  a  storm,  for  laying  up  four 
of  her  largest  ships ;  earnestly  requesting  that  he  might  be  per- 
mitted to  retain  them  at  his  own  expense  rather  than  the  safety 
of  the  cou  itry  should  be  risked  by  their  dismissal.  John  Haw- 
kins, one  of  the  ablest  and  most  experienced  seamen  of  the  age, 
was  chiefly  relied  upon  for  the  conduct  of  the  main  fleet,  in 
which  he  acted  as  vice-admiral.  For  his  good  service  he  was 
knighted  by  the  lord  admiral  on  board  his  own  ship  immediately 
after  the  action,  when  the  like  honour  was  bestowed  on  that 
eminent  navigator  Frobisher,  who  led  into  action  the  Triumph, 
one  of  the  three  first-rates  which  were  then  all  that  the  English 
navy  could  boast. 


368 


THE  COURT  OF 


To  the  hero  Jlrake,  as  rear-admiral,  a  separate  squadron  was 
intrusted  :  and  it  was  by  this  division  that  the  principal  execu- 
tion M  as  (lone  upon  the  discomfited  armada  as  it  fled  in  confusion 
before  the  valour  of  the  English  and  the  fury  of  their  tempestu- 
ous seas.  An  enormous  galleon  surrendered  .without  firing  a 
shot  to  the  much  smaller  vessel  of  Drake,  purely  from  the  ter- 
ror of  his  name. 

Whilst  the  lord-admiral,  with  the  principal  fleet  stationed  off 
Plymouth,  prepared  to  engage  the  armada  in  its  passage  up  the 
Channel,  sir  Henry  Seymour,  youngest  son  of  the  protector,  was 
stationed  with  a  smaller  force,  partly  English,  partly  Flemish, 
off  Dunkirk,  for  the  purpose  of  intercepting  the  duke  of  Parma, 
who  was  lying  with  his  veteran  forces  on  the  coast,  ready  to  em- 
bark and  co-operate  in  the  conquest  of  England. 

In  the  midst  of  these  naval  preparations,  which  happily  suffi- 
ced in  the  event  to  frustrate  entirely  the  designs  of  the  enemy, 
equal  activity  was  exerted  to  place  the  land  forces  in  a  condi- 
tion to  dispute  the  soil  against  the  finest  troops  and  most  con- 
summate general  of  Europe. 

An  army  of  reserve  consisting  of  about  thirty-six  thousand 
men  was  drawn  together  for  the  defence  of  the  queen's  person, 
and  appointed  to  march  towards  any  quarter  in  which  the  most 
pressing  danger  should  manifest  itself.  A  smaller,  but  probably 
better  appointed  force,  of  twenty-three  thousand  was  stationed 
in  a  camp  near  Tilbury  to  protect  the  capital  against  which  it 
was  not  doubted  that  the  most  formidable  efforts  of  the  enemy 
on  making  good  his  landing  would  be  immediately  directed. 

Owing  to  the  long  peace  which  the  country  had  enjoyed,  Eng- 
land possessed  at  this  juncture  no  general  of  reputation,  though, 
doubtless,  a  sufficiency  of  men  of  resolution  and  capacity  whom 
a  short  experience  of  actual  service  would  have  matured  into 
able  officers.  Under  circumstances  which  afforded  to  the  govern- 
ment so  small  a  choice  of  men,  the  respective  appointment  of 
Arthur  lord  Grey, — distinguished  by  the  vigour  which  he  had 
exerted  in  suppressing  the  last  Irish  rebellion, — to  the  post  of 
president  of  the  council  of  war  ;  of  lord  Hunsdon, — a  brave  sol- 
dier long  practised  in  the  desultory  warfare  of  the  northein  bor- 
der, as  well  as  in  several  regular  campaigns  against  Scotland, — 
to  the  command  of  the  army  of  reserve;  and  of  the  earl  of  Essex, 
— a  gallant  you\h  who  had  fleshed  his  maiden  sword  and  gained 
his  spurs  in  the  affair  of  Zutpl>en,  to  the  post  of  general  of  the 
horse  in  the  main  army  ; — seem  to  have  merited  the  sanction  of 
public  approbation.  But  the  most  strenuous  defender  of  the 
measures  of  her  majesty  must  have  been  staggered  by  her  nomi- 
nation of  Leicester, — the  hated,  the  disgraced,  the  incapable 
Leicester, — to  the  station  of  highest  honour,  danger,  and  impor- 
tance ; — that  of  commander  in  chief  of  the  army  at  Tilbury. 
Military  experience,  indeed,  the  favourite  possessed  in  a  higher 
degree  than  most  of  those  to  whom  the  defence  of  the  country 
was  now  of  necessity  intrusted,  but  of  skill  and  conduct  he  had 
proved  himself  destitute  ;  even  his  personal  courage  was  doubt- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


S69 


Jul ;  and  his  recent  failures  in  Holland  must  have  inspired  dis- 
trust in  the  bosom  of  every  individual,  whether  officer  or  private, 
appointed  to  serve  under  him.  Something  must  be  allowed  for 
the  embarrassments  of  the  time;  the  deficiency  of  military  talent; 
the  high  rank  of  Leicester  in  the  service,  which  forbade  his  em- 
ployment in  any  inferior  capacity:  but,  with  all  these  palliations, 
the  nomination  of  such  an  antagonist  to  confront  the  duke  of 
Parma  must  eternally  be  regarded  as  the  weakest  act  into  which 
the  prudence  of  Elizabeth  was  ever  betrayed  by  a  blind  and  un~ 
acc o  u  n tabl  e  pa  i  t i  ali  ty. 

All  these  preparations  for  defence  being  finally  arranged,  her 
majesty  resolved  to  visit  in  person  the  camp  at  Tilbury,  for  the 
purpose  of  encouraging  her  troops. 

It  had  been  a  part  of  the  commendation  of  Elizabeth,  that  in 
her  public  appearances,  of  whatsoever  nature,  no  sovereign  on 
record  had  acted  the  part  so  well,  or  with  such  universal  ap- 
plause. But  on  this  memorable  and  momentous  occasion,  when, — 
like  a  second  Boadicea,  armed  for  defence  against  the  invader  of 
her  country, — she  appeared  at  once  the  warrior  and  the  queen, 
the  sacred  feelings  of  the  moment,  superior  to  all  the  artifices  of 
regal  dignity  and  the  tricks  of  regal  condescension,  inspired  her 
with  that  impressive  earnestness  of  look,  of  words,  of  gesture, 
which  alone  is  truly  dignified  and  truly  eloquent. 

Mounted  on  a  noble  charger,  with  a  general's  truncheon  in  her 
hand,  a  corselet  of  polished  steel  laced  on  over  her  magnificent 
apparel,  and  a  page  in  attendance  bearing  her  white-plumed  hel- 
met, she  rode  bare-headed  from  rank  to  rank  with  a  courageous 
deportment  and  smiling  countenance  ;  and  amid  the  affection- 
ate plaudits  and  shouts  of  military  ardour  which  burst  from  the 
animated  and  admiring  soldiery,  she  addressed  them  in  the  fol- 
lowing short  and  spirited  harangue. 

"  Myloving  people ;  we  have  been  persuaded  by  some  that  are 
careful  of  our  safety,  to  take  heed  how  we  commit  ourselves  to 
armed  multitudes,  for  fear  of  treachery  ;  but,  assure  you,  I  do  not 
desire  to  live  to  distrust  my  faithful  and  loving  people.  Let  ty- 
rants fear :  I  have  always  so  behaved  myself  that,  under  God,  I 
have  placed  my  chiefest  strength  and  safeguard  in  the  loyal 
hearts  and  good-will  of  my  subjects.  And  therefore  I  am  come 
amongst  you  at  this  time,  not  as  for  my  recreation  or  sport,  but  being 
resolved  in  the  midst  and  heat  of  the  battle,  to  live  or  die  amongst 
you  all ;  to  lay  down  for  my  God,  and  for  my  kingdom,  and  for 
my  people,  my  honour  and  my  blood,  even  in  the  dust.  I  know 
I  have  but  the  body  of  a  weak  and  feeble  woman,  but  I  have  the 
heart  of  a  king,  and  of  a  king  of  England  too;  and  think  foul 
scorn,  that  Parma  or  Spain,  or  any  prince  of  Europe,  should  dar  e 
to  invade  the  borders  of  my  realms  :  To  which,  rather  than  any 
dishonour  should  grow  by  me,  I  myself  will  take  up  arms :  I  my- 
self will  be  your  general,  judge,  and  rewarder  of  every  one  of 
your  virtues  in  the  field. 

"  I  know  already  by  your  forwardness,  that  you  have  deserved 

3  A 


370 


THE  COURT  OF 


rewards  and  crowns  ;  and  we  do  assure  you,  on  the  word  of  a 
prince,  they  shall  be  duly  paid  you.  In  the  meantime,  my  lieuten- 
ant-general shall  be  in  my  stead,  than  whom  never  prince  com- 
manded a  more  noble  and  worthy  subject;  not  doubting  by  your 
obedience  to  my  general,  by  your  concord  in  the  camp,  and  your 
valour  in  the  field,  we  shall  shortly  have  a  famous  victory  over 
those  enemies  of  my  God,  of  my  kingdom,  and  of  my  people." 

The  extraordinary  reliance  placed  by  the  queen  in  this  emer- 
gency upon  the  counsels  of  Leicester  encouraged  the  insatiable 
favourite  to  grasp  at  honour  and  authority  still  more  exorbitant; 
and  he  ventured  to  urge  her  majesty  to  invest  him  with  the  office 
of  her  lieutenant  in  England  and  Ireland  ;  a  dignity  paramount 
to  all  other  commands.  She  had  the  weakness  to  comply  ;  and 
it  is  said  that  the  patent  was  actually  drawn  out,  when  the  de- 
feat of  the  armada,  by  taking  away  all  pretext  for  the  creation  of 
such  an  officer  gave  her  leisure  to  attend  to  the  earnest  repre- 
sentations of  Hatton  and  Burleigh  on  the  imprudence  of  confer- 
ring on  any  subject  powers  so  excessive,  and  capable  even  in 
some  instances  of  controlling  her  own  prerogative.  On  better 
consideration  the  project  therefore  was  dropped. 

It  is  foreign  from  the  business  of  this  work  to  detail  the  par- 
ticulars of  that  signal  victory  obtained  by  English  seamanship 
and  English  valour  against  the  boasted  armament  of  Spain,  pro- 
digiously superior  as  it  was  in  every  circumstance  of  force  ex- 
cepting the  moral  energies  employed  to  wield  it.  While  the  his- 
tory of  the  year  1588,  in  all  its  details,  must  ever  form  a  favour- 
ite chapter  in  the  splendid  tale  of  England's  naval  glory,  it  will 
here  suffice  to  mark  the  general  results. 

Not  a  single  Spaniard  set  foot  on  English  ground  but  as  a  pri- 
soner; one  English  vessel  only,  and  that  of  smaller  size,  became 
the  prize  of  the  invaders.  The  duke  of  Parma  did  not  venture  to 
embark  a  man.  The  king  of  Scots,  standing  firm  to  his  alliance 
•with  his  illustrious  kinswoman,  afforded  not  the  slightest  succour 
to  the  Spanish  ships  which  the  storms  and  the  English  drove  in 
shattered  plight  upon  his  rugged  coast;  while  the  lord-deputy  of 
Ireland  caused  to  be  butchered  without  remorse  the  crews  of  all 
the  vessels  wrecked  upon  that  island  in  their  disastrous  circum- 
navigation of  Great  Britain  :  so  that  not  more  than  half  of  this 
vaunted  invincible  armada  returned  in  safety  to  the  ports  of 
Spain.  Never  in  the  records  of  history  was  the  event  of  war  on 
one  side  more  entirely  satisfactory  and  glorious,  on  the  other 
more  deeply  humiliating  and  utterly  disgraceful.  Philip  did  in- 
deed support  the  credit  of  his  personal  character  by  the  dignified 
composure  with  which  he  heard  the  tidings  of  this  great  disaster: 
but  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  throw  the  slightest  veil  over  the 
dishonour  of  the  Spanish  arms,  or  repair  the  total  and  final  fai- 
lure of  the  great  popish  cause. 

By  the  English  nation,  this  signal  discomfiture  of  its  most 
dreaded  and  detested  foe  was  hailed  as  the  victory  of  protestant 
principles  no  less  than  of  national  independence  ;  and  the  tid- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


371 


ings  of  the'' national  deliverance  were  welcomed,  by  all  the  re- 
formed churches  of  Europe,  with  an  ardour  of  joy  and  thankful- 
ness proportioned  to  the  intenseness  of  anxiety  with  which  they 
had  watched  the  event  of  a  conflict,  where  their  own  dearest  in- 
terests were  staked  along  with  the  existence  of  their  best  ally 
and  firmest  protector. 

Repeated  thanksgivings  were  observed  in  London  in  commem- 
oration of  this  great  event :  on  the  anniversary  of  the  queen's 
birth,  a  general  festival  was  proclaimed  and  celebrated  with  "ser- 
mons, singing  of  psalms,  bonfires,  &c."  and  on  the  following  Sun- 
day her  majesty  went  in  state  to  St.  Paul's,  magnificently  at- 
tended by  her  nobles  and  great  officers,  and  borne  along  on  a 
sumptuous  chariot  formed  like  a  throne,  with  four  pillars  sup- 
porting a  canopy,  and  drawn  by  a  pair  of  white  horses.  The  streets 
througli  which  she  passed  were  hung  with  blue  cloth,  in  honour 
doubtless  of  the  navy,  and  the  colours  taken  from  the  enemy  were 
borne  in  triumph. 

Her  majesty  rewarded  the  lord-admiral  with  a  considerable 
pension,  and  settled  annuities  on  the  wounded  seamen  and  on 
some  of  the  more  necessitous  among  the  officers  ;  the  rest  she  hon- 
oured with  much  personal  notice  and  many  gracious  terms  of  com- 
mendation, which  they  w  ere  expected  to  receive  in  lieu  of  more 
substantial  remuneration ; — for  parsimony,  the  darling  virtue  of 
Elizabeth,  was  not  forgotten  even  in  her  gratitude  to  the  brave 
defenders  of  her  country. 

Two  medals  were  struck  on  this  great  occasion  ;  one,  repre- 
senting a  fleet  retiring  under  full  sail,  with  the  motto,  "  Venit, 
vidityfugit the  other,  fire-ships  scattering  a  fleet;  the  motto, 
"  Dux  fsemina facti  a  compliment  to  the  queen,  wrho  is  said  to 
have  herself  suggested  the  employment  of  these  engines  of  de- 
struction, by  which  the  armada  suffered  severely. 

The  intense  interest  in  public  events  excited  in  every  class 
by  the  threatened  invasion  of  Spain,  gave  rise  to  the  introduction 
in  this  country  of  one  of  the  most  important  inventions  of  social 
life, — that  of  newspapers,  Previously  to  this  period  all  articles 
of  intelligence  had  been  circulated  in  manuscript;  and  all  political 
remarks  which  the  government  had  found  itself  interested  in  ad- 
dressing to  the  people,  had  issued  from  the  press  in  the  shape  of 
pamphlets,  of  which  many  had  been  composed  during  the  admin- 
istration of  Burleigh,  either  by  himself  or  immediately  under  his 
direction.  But  the  peculiar  convenience  at  such  a  juncture,  of 
uniting  these  two  objects  in  a  periodical  publication  becoming 
obvious  to  the  ministry,  there  appeared,  some  time  in  the  month 
of  April,  1588,  the  first  number  of  The  English  Mercury,  a  paper 
resembling  the  present  London  Gazette,  which  must  have  come 
out  almost  daily  ;  since  No.  50,  the  earliest  specimen  of  the  work 
now  extant,  is  dated  July  23d  of  the  same  year.  This  interesting 
relic  is  preserved  in  the  British  Museum. 

In  the  midst  of  the  public  rejoicings,  an  event  occurred,  which, 
in  whatever  manner  it  might  be  felt  by  Elizabeth  herself,  certainlv 


THE  COURT  OF 


cast  no  damp  on  the  spirits  of  the  nation  at  large ;  the  death  ot 
Leicester. 

After  the  frequent  notices  of  this  celebrated  favourite  con- 
tained in  the  foregoing  pages,  a  formal  delineation  of  his  charac- 
ter is  unnecessary  ; — a  few  traits  may  however  be  added. 

Speaking  of  his  letters  and  public  papers,  Naunton  says,  "  1 
never  yet  saw  a  style  or  phrase  more  seeming  religious  and  fuller 
of  the  streams  of  devotion  ;"  and  notwithstanding  the  charge  of 
hypocrisy  on  tins  head  usually  brought  against  Leicester  in  the 
most  unqualified  terms,  many  reasons  might  induce  us  to  believe 
his  religious  faith  sincere,  and  his  attachment  for  certain  schemes 
of  doctrine,  zealous.  On  no  other  supposition  does  it  appear  pos- 
sible to  account  for  that  steady  patronage  of  the  puritanical  party, 
— so  odious  to  his  mistress, — which  gave  on  some  occasions  such 
important  advantages  over  him  to  his  adversary  Hatton, — the 
only  minister  of  Elizabeth  who  appears  co  have  aimed  at  the  cha 
racter  of  a  high  church -of-England  man.  The  circumstance  also 
of  his  devoting  during  his  lifetime  a  considerable  sum  of  ready 
money,  which  he  could  ill  spare,  to  the  endowment  of  a  hospital, 
has  much  the  air  of  an  act  of  expiation  prompted  by  religious 
fears.  As  a  statesman,  Leicester  appears  to  have  displayed  on 
some  occasions  considerable  acuteness  and  penetration,  but  in  the 
higher  kind  of  wisdom  he  was  utterly  deficient.  His  moral  in- 
sensibility sometimes  caused  him  to  offer  to  his  sovereign  the 
most  pernicious  counsels  ;  and  had  not  the  superior  rectitude  of 
Burleigh's  judgment  interposed,  his  influence  might  have  inflict- 
ed still  deeper  wounds  on  the  honour  of  the  queen  and  the  pros- 
perity of  the  nation. 

Towards  his  own  friends  and  adherents,  he  is  said  to  have  been 
a  religious  observer  of  his  promises  ;  a  virtue  very  remarkable  in 
such  a  man.  In  the  midst  of  that  profusion  which  rendered  him 
rapacious,  he  was  capable  of  acts  of  real  generosity,  and  both  sol- 
diers and  scholars  tasted  largely  of  his  bounty.  That  he  was 
guilty  of  many  detestable  acts  of  oppression,  and  pursued  with 
secret  and  unrelenting  vengeance  such  as  offended  his  arrogance 
by  any  failure  in  the  servile  homage  which  he  made  it  his  glory 
to  exact,  are  charges  proved  by  undeniable  facts  ;  but  it  has  al- 
ready been  observed,  that  the  more  atrocious  of  the  crimes  popu- 
larly imputed  to  him,  remain,  and  must  ever  remain,  matters  of 
suspicion  rather  than  proof. 

His  conduct  during  the  younger  part  of  life  was  scandalously 
licentious  :  latterly,  he  became,  says  Camden,  uxorious  to  excess. 
In  the  early  days  of  his  favour  with  the  queen,  her  profuse  dona- 
tions had  gratified  his  cupidity  and  displayed  the  fondness  of  her 
attachment ;  but,  at  a  later  period,  the  stream  of  her  bounty  ran 
low;  and  following  the  natural  bent  of  her  disposition,  or  com- 
plying with  the  necessity  of  her  affairs,  she  compelled  him  to 
mortgage  to  her  his  barony  of  Denbigh  for  the  expenses  of  his 
last  expedition  to  Holland.  Immediately  after  his  death  she  also 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


373 


<  a  used  his  effects  to  be  sold  by  auction,  for  the  satisfaction  of 
certain  demands  of  her  treasury.  From  these  circumstances,  it 
may  probably  be  inferred,  that  the  influence  which  Leicester  still 
retained  over  her  was  secured  rather  by  the  chain  of  habit  than 
the  tie  of  affection  ;  and  after  the  first  shock  of  final  separation 
from  him  whom  she  had  so  long  loved  and  trusted,  it  is  not  im- 
probable that  she  might  contemplate  the  event  with  a  feeling, 
somewhat  akin  to  that  of  deliverance  from  a  yoke,  under  which 
her  haughty  spirit  had  repined  without  the  courage  to  resist. 

Leicester  died,  beyond  all  doubt,  of  a  fever;  but  so  reluc- 
tant were  the  prejudices  of  that  age  to  dismiss  any  eminent  per- 
son by  the  ordinary  roads  of  mortality,  that  it  was  judged  neces- 
sary to  take  examinations  before  the  privy-council  respecting 
certain  magical  practices  said  to  have  been  employed  against  his 
life.  The  son  of  sir  James  Croft,  comptroller  of  the  household, 
made  no  scruple  to  confess  that  he  had  consulted  an  adept  of  the 
name  of  Smith,  to  learn  who  were  his  father's  enemies  in  the 
council ;  that  Smith  mentioned  the  earl  of  Leicester  ;  and  that  a 
little  while  after,  flirting  with  his  thumbs,  he  exclaimed,  allud 
ing  to  this  nobleman's  cognisance,  "  The  bear  is  bound  to  the 
stake and  again,  that  nothing  could  now  save  him.  But  as  it 
might,  after  all,  have  been  difficult  to  show  in  what  manner  the 
flirting  of  a  thumb  in  London  could  have  exerted  a  fatal  power 
over  the  life  of  the  earl  at  Kennelworth,  the  adept  seems  to  have 
escaped  unpunished,  notwithstanding  the  accidental  fulfilment  of 
his  denunciations. 


574 


THE  COURT  OF 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

from  1588  to  1591. 

Effects  of  Leicester's  death. — Rise  of  the  queen's  affection  for  Es- 
sex.— Trial  of  the  earl  of  Arundel. — Letter  of  Walsingham  on 
religious  affairs. — Death  of  Mildmay. — Case  of  don  Antonio. — 
Expedition  to  Cadiz. — Behaviour  of  Essex. — Traits  of  sir  C. 
Blount. — Sir  H.  Leigh's  resignation. — Conduct  of  Elizabeth  to 
the  king  of  Scots. — His  marriage. — Death  and  character  of  sir 
Francis  Walsingham. — Struggle  between  the  earl  of  Essex  and 
lord  Burleigh  for  the  nomination  of  his  successor. — Extracts  of 
letters  from  Essex  to  Davison. — Inveteracy  of  the  queen  against 
Davison. — Robert  Cecil  appointed  assistant  secretary. — Private 
marriage  of  Essex. — Anger  of  the  queen. — Reform  effected  by  the 
queen  in  the  collection  of  the  revenue. — Speech  oj  Burleigh. — Par- 
simony of  the  queen  considered. — Anecdotes  on  this  subject. — 
Lin  es  by  Spenser. — Succours  afforded  by  her  to  the  king  of  France. 
— Account  of  sir  John  Norris. — Essex's  campaign  in  France. — 
Royal  progress. — Entertainment  at  Coudray — at  Elvetham — at 
Theobald's. — Death  and  character  of  sir  Christopher  Hatton. — 
Puckering  lord-keeper. — Notice  of  sir  John  Perrot. — Putten- 
ham's  Art  of  Poetry. —  Verses  by  Gascoigne. — Warner's  Al 
bion's  England. 

The  death  of  Leicester  forms  an  important  sera  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  court  of  Elizabeth,  and  also  in  that  of  her  private  life 
and  more  intimate  feelings.  The  powerful  faction  of  which  the 
favourite  had  been  the  head,  acknowledged  a  new  leader  in  the 
earl  of  Essex,  whom  his  step-father  had  brought  forward  at  court 
as  a  counterpoise  to  the  influence  of  Raleigh,  and  who  now  stood 
second  to  none  in  the  good  graces  of  her  majesty.  But  Essex, 
however  gifted  with  noble  and  brilliant  qualities  totally  deficient 
in  Leicester,  was  on  the  other  hand  confessedly  inferior  to  him 
in  several  other  endowments  still  more  essential  to  the  leader  of 
a  court  party.  Though  not  void  of  art,  he  was  by  no  means  mas- 
ter of  the  profound  dissimulation,  the  exquisite  address,  and  es- 
pecially the  wary  coolness  by  which  his  predecessor  well  knew 
how  to  accomplish  his  ends  in  despite  of  all  opposition.  His  cha- 
racter was  impetuous,  his  natural  disposition  frank  ;  and  expe- 
rience had  not  yet  taught  him  to  distrust  either  himself  or  others. 

With  the  friendships,  Essex  received  as  an  inheritance  the  en- 
mities also  of  Leicester,  and  no  one  at  court  could  have  enter- 
tained the  least  doubt  whom  he  regarded  as  his  principal  oppo- 
nent; but  it  would  have  been  deemed  too  high  a  pitch  of  pre- 
sumption in  so  young  a  man  and  so  recent  a  favourite  as  Essex, 
to  place  himself  in  immediate  and  open  hostility  to  the  long  es- 


QITKEN  ELIZABETH. 


375 


lablished  and  far  extending  influence  of  Burleigh.  With  this 
great  minister,  therefore,  and  his  adherents  he  attempted  at  first 
a  kind  of  compromise,  and  the  noted  division  of  the  court  into  the 
Essex  and  the  Cecil  parties  does  not  appear  to  have  taken  place 
till  some  years  after  the  period  of  which  we  are  treating.  Mean- 
time, the  death  of  Walsingham  afforded  the  lord-treasurer  an  oc- 
casion of  introducing  to  the  notice  and  confidence  of  her  majesty, 
and  eventually  to  the  important  office  of  secretary  of  state,  his 
son  Robert,  whose  transcendent  talents  for  affairs,  joined  to  the 
utmost  refinement  of  intrigue  and  duplicity,  immediately  esta- 
blished him  in  the  same  independence  on  the  good  will  of  the  new 
favourite,  as  the  elder  Cecil  nad  ever  asserted  on  that  of  the  for- 
mer one ;  and  appears  finally  to  have  enabled  him  to  prepare  in 
secret  that  favourite's  disastrous  fall. 

With  regard  to  Elizabeth  herself,  it  has  been  a  thousand 
times  remarked,  that  she  was  never  able  to  forget  the  woman  in 
the  sovereign  ;  and  in  spite  of  that  preponderating  love  of  sway 
which  all  her  life  forbade  her  to  admit  a  partner  of  her  bed  and 
throne,  her  heart  was  to  the  last  deeply  sensible  to  the  want,  or 
her  imagination  to  the  charm,  of  loving  and  being  beloved.  The 
death  therefore  of  a  man  who  had  been  for  thirty  years  the  ob- 
ject of  a  tenderness  which  he  had  long  repaid  by  every  flattering 
profession,  every  homage  of  gallantry,  and  every  manifestation 
of  entire  devotedness,  left,  notwithstanding  any  late  disgusts 
which  she  might  have  entertained,  a  void  in  her  existence  which 
9he  felt  it  necessary  to  supply.  It  was  this  situation,  doubtless, 
of  her  feelings  which  led  to  the  gradual  conversion  into  a  softer 
sentiment,  of  that  natural  and  innocent  tenderness  with  which 
she  had  hitherto  regarded  the  brilliant  and  engaging  qualities  of 
her  youthful  kinsman  the  earl  of  Essex; — a  change  which  termi- 
nated so  fatally  to  both. 

The  enormous  disproportion  of  ages  gave  to  the  new  inclina^ 
tion  of  the  queen  a  stamp  of  dotage  inconsistent  with  the  reputa- 
tion for  good  sense  and  dignity  of  conduct  which  she  had  hitherto 
preserved.  Nor  did  she  long  receive  from  the  indulgence  of  so 
untimely  a  sentiment  any  portion  of  the  felicity  which  she  co- 
veted. The  careless  and  even  affronting  behaviour  in  which 
Essex  occasionally  indulged  himself,  combined  with  her  own  sa- 
gacity to  admonish  her  that  her  fondness  was  unreturned ;  and 
that  nothing  but  the  substantial  benefits  by  which  it  declared  it- 
self could  have  induced  its  object  to  meet  it  with  even  the  semb- 
lance of  gratitude.  As  this  mortifying  conviction  came  home  to 
her  bosom,  she  grew  restless,  irritable,  and  captious  to  excess ; 
she  watched  all  his  motions  with  a  self-tormenting  jealousy  ;  she 
fed  her  own  disquiet  by  listening  to  the  malicious  informations 
of  his  enemies ;  and  her  heart  at  length  becoming  callous  by  re- 
peated exasperations,  she  began  to  visit  his  delinquencies  with 
an  unrelenting  sternness.  This  conduct,  attempted  too  late  and 
persisted  in  too  long,  hurried  Essex  to  his  ruin,  and  ended  by 
inflicting  upon  herself  the  mortal  agonies  of  an  unavailing  re 
pentance. 


576 


THE  COURT  OF 


Lord  Bacon  relates,  in  his  Apothegms,  that  "a  great  officer 
about  court  when  my  lord  of  Essex  was  first  in  trouble,  and  that 
he  and  those  that  dealt  for  him  would  talk  much  of  my  lord's 
friends  and  of  his  enemies,  answered  to  one  of  them ;  <  I  will 
tell  you,  I  know  but  one  friend  and  one  enemy  my  lord  hath; 
and  that  one  friend  is  the  queen,  and  that  one  enemy,  is  him 
self.'  "  But  rather  might  both  have  been  esteemed  his  enemies  : 
for  what  except  the  imprudent  fondness  of  the  queen,  and  the 
excess  of  favour  which  she  at  first  lavished  upon  him,  was  the 
original  cause  of  that  intoxication  of  mind  which  finally  became 
the  instrument  of  his  destruction  ? 

But  from  observations  which  anticipate  perhaps  too  much  the 
catastrophe  of  this  melancholy  history,  it  is  time  to  return  to  a 
narrative  of  events. 

The  Spanish  armament  incidentally  became  the  occasion  of 
involving  the  earl  of  Arundel  in  a  charge  of  a  capital  nature. 
Ever  since  the  treachery  of  his  agents,  in  the  year  1585,  had 
baffled  his  design  of  quitting  for  ever  a  country  in  which  his  re- 
ligion and  his  political  attachments  had  rendered  him  an  alien, 
this  unfortunate  nobleman  had  remained  close  prisoner  in  the 
Tower.  Such  treatment  might  well  be  supposed  calculated  to 
augment  the  vehemence  of  his  bigotry  and  the  rancour  of  his 
disaffection;  and  it  became  a  current  report  that,  on  hearing 
news  of  the  sailing  of  the  armada,  he  had  caused  a  mass  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  devotions  of  twenty-four  hours  continuance  to 
be  celebrated  for  its  success.  This  rumour  being  confirmed  by 
one  Bennet,  a  priest  then  under  examination,  and  other  circum- 
stances of  suspicion  coming  out,  the  earl,  on  April  the  14th, 
1589,  was  brought  to  the  bar  of  the  house  of  lords  on  a  charge 
of  high  treason.  Bennet,  struck  with  compunction,  addressed 
to  him  a  letter  acknowledging  his  testimony  to  have  been  false, 
and  extorted  from  him  solely  by  the  fear  of  the  rack.  But  it  ap- 
pears that  this  letter,  still  extant  among  the  Burleigh  papers,  was 
intercepted  by  the  government;  and  the  prisoner,  by  this  cruel 
and  iniquitous  artifice,  was  deprived  of  all  means  of  invalidating 
the  testimony  of  Bennet,  who  was  brought  into  court  as  a  wit- 
ness against  him.  By  a  second  violation  of  every  principle  of 
justice,  the  matters  for  which,  as  contempts,  he  had  already  un- 
dergone the  sentence  of  the  Star-chamber,  were  now  introduced 
into  his  indictment  for  high  treason,  to  which  the  following  ar- 
ticles were  added : — that  he  had  engaged  to  assist  cardinal  Allen 
in  the  restoration  of  popery ; — that  he  had  intimated  the  unfit- 
ness of  the  queen  to  govern ;  that  he  had  caused  masses  to  be 
said  for  the  success  of  the  armada  ; — that  he  had  attempted  to 
withdraw  himself  beyond  seas  for  the  purpose  of  serving  under 
the  duke  of  Parma  ; — and  that  he  had  been  privy  to  the  bull  of 
pope  Sixtus  V.,  transferring  the  sovereignty  of  England  from  her 
majesty  to  the  king  of  Spain. 

To  all  these  articles,  which  he  was  not  allowed  to  separate, 
the  earl  pleaded  Not  guilty ;  but  afterwards,  in  his  defence,  con- 
fessed some  of  them,  though*  with  certain  extenuations.    He  as- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


377 


serted,  that  the  prayers  and  masses  which  he  had  caused  to  be 
said,  were  for  the  averting  of  a  general  massacre  of  the  English 
catholics,  alleged  to  be  designed;  and  not  for  the  success  of  the 
armada.  The  aid  to  the  catholic  cause,  which  he  had  promised 
in  his  correspondence  with  cardinal  Allen,  he  declared  to  refer 
only  to  peaceful  attempts  at  making  converts,  not  to  the  encou- 
ragement of  any  plan  of  rebellion.  He  acknowledged  a  design 
of  going  to  serve  under  the  prince  of  Parma,  since  he  was*  denied 
the  exercise  of  his  religion  at  home  ;  but  he  argued  his  innocence 
of  any  view  of  co-operating  in  plans  of  invasion,  from  the  circum- 
stance, that  his  attempt  to  leave  England  had  taken  place  during 
the  year  fixed  by  cardinal  Allen  and  the  queen  of  Scots  for  the 
execution  of  a  scheme  of  this  nature. 

The  crown  lawyers,  in  order  to  make  out  a  case  of  constructive 
treason,  urged  the  reconcilement  of  the  prisoner  with  the  church 
of  Rome,  which  they  held  to  be  of  itself  a  traitorous  act ;  his 
correspondence  with  declared  traitors ;  and  the  high  opinion 
entertained  of  him  by  the  queen  of  Scots  and  cardinal  Allen, 
as  the  chief  support  of  popery  in  England.  They  likewise  exhi- 
bited an  emblematical  picture  found  in  his  house,  representing 
in  one  part,  a  hand  shaking  off  a  viper  into  the  fire,  with  the 
motto,  "  If  God  is  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us?"  and  in  an- 
other part  a  lion,  the  cognisance  of  the  Howard  family,  deprived 
of  his  claws,  under  him  the  words,  "  Yet  still  a  lion."  On  these 
charges,  none  of  which,  though  proved  by  the  most  unexception- 
able witnesses,  could  bring  him  within  the  true  meaning  of  the 
old  statute  of  Edward  III.,  on  which  he  was  indicted,  the  peers 
were  base  enough  to  pronounce  an  unanimous  verdict  of  Guilty ; 
which  he  received,  as  his  father  had  done  before  him,  with  the 
words  "God's  will  be  done  !"  But  here  the  queen  felt  herself 
concerned  in  honour  to  interpose.  It  had  ever  been  her  maxim 
and  her  boast,  to  punish  none  capitally  for  religious  delinquen- 
cies unconnected  with  traitorous  designs ;  and  sensible  probably 
how  imperfectly  in  this  case  the  latter  had  been  proved,  she 
was  pleased,  in  her  abundant  mercy,  to  commute  the  capital 
part  of  the  sentence  against  her  unhappy  kinsman  for  perpetual 
imprisonment,  attended  with  the  forfeiture  of  the  greater  part  of 
his  estate. 

In  1595,  this  victim  of  the  religious  dissensions  of  a  fierce  and 
bigoted  age  ended  in  his  thirty-ninth  year  an  unfortunate  life, 
shortened,  as  well  as  embittered,  by  the  more  than  monkish  aus- 
terities which  he  imagined  it  meritorious  to  inflict  upon  himself. 

From  the  period  of  the  abortive  attempt  at  insurrection  under 
the  earls  of  Northumberland  and  Westmoreland,  the  whole  course 
of  public  events  had  tended  to  increase  the  difficulties  and  aggra- 
vate the  sufferings  in  which  the  catholics  of  England  found 
themselves  inextricably  involved.  Their  situation  was  thus  for- 
cibly depicted  by  Philip  Sidney,  in  a  passage  of  his  celebrated 
letter  to  her  majesty  against  the  French  marriage,  which  at  the 
present  day  will  probably  be  read  in  a  spirit  very  different  from 
that  in  which  it  was  written. 

SB 


378 


THE  COURT  OF 


"  The  other  faction, most  rightly  indeed  to  be  called  a  faction,  is' 
the  papists  ;  men  whose  spirits  are  full  of  anguish  ;  some  being  in- 
fested by  others  whom  they  accounted  damnable ;  some  having 
their  ambition  stopped  because  they  are  not  in  the  way  of  ad- 
vancement ;  some  in  prison  and  disgrace ;  some  whose  best  friends 
are  banished  practisers ;  many  thinking  you  an  usurper;  many 
thinking  also  you  had  disannulled  your  right  because  of  the  pope's 
excommunication  ;  all  burthened  with  the  weight  of  their  con- 
sciences. Men  of  great  numbers,  of  great  riches  (because  the 
affairs  of  state  have  not  lain  on  them,)  of  united  minds,  as  all 
men  that  deem  themselves  oppressed  naturally  are." 

A  further  commentary  on  the  hardships  of  their  condition  may 
be  extracted  from  an  apology  for  the  measures  of  the  English 
government  towards  both  papists  and  puritans,  addressed  by 
Walsingham  to  M.  Critoy  the  French  secretary  of  state. 

«  Sir, 

"  AVhereas  you  desire  to  be  advertised  touching  the  proceed 
ings  here  in  ecclesiastical  causes,  because  you  seem  to  note  in 
them  some  inconstancy  and  variation,  as  if  we  sometimes  in 
clined  to  one  side,  sometimes  to  another,  as  if  that  clemency  and 
lenity  were  not  used  of  late  that  was  used  in  the  beginning,  all 
which  you  impute  to  your  own  superficial  understanding  of  the 
affairs  of  this  state,  having  notwithstanding  her  majesty's  doing 
in  singular  reverence,  as  the  real  pledges  which  she  hath  given 
unto  the  world  of  her  sincerity  in  religion  and  her  wisdom  in 
government  well  meriteth;  I  am  glad  of  this  occasion  to  impart 
that  little  I  know  in  that  matter  to  you,  both  for  your  own  satis- 
faction, and  to  the  end  you  may  make  use  thereof  towards  any 
that  shall  not  be  so  modestly  and  so  reasonably  minded  as  you 
are.  I  find  therefore  her  majesty's  proceedings  to  have  been 
grounded  upon  two  principles. 

"  1.  The  one,  that  consciences  are  not  to  be  forced,  but  to  be 
won  and  reduced  by  the  force  of  truth,  with  the  aid  of  time,  and 
use  of  all  good  means  of  instruction  and  persuasion. 

"  2.  The  other,  that  the  causes  of  conscience,  wherein  they 
exceed  their  bounds,  and  grow  to  be  matter  of  faction,  lose  their 
nature  ;  and  that  sovereign  princes  ought  distinctly  to  punish  the 
practice  in  contempt,  though  coloured  under  the  pretence  of  con 
science  and  religion. 

"  According  to  these  principles,  her  majesty,  at  her  coming  to* 
the  crown,  utterly  disliking  the  tyranny  of  Rome,  which  had 
used  by  terror  and  rigour  to  settle  commandments  of  men's  faiths 
and  consciences ;  though,  as  a  prince  of  great  wisdom  and  mag- 
nanimity, she  suffered  but  the  exercise  of  one  religion,  yet  her 
proceedings  towards  the  papists  was  with  great  lenity,  expecting 
the  good  effects  which  time  might  work  in  them.  And  therefore 
her  majesty  revived  not  the  laws  made  in  the  28  and  35  of  her 
father's  reign,  whereby  the  oath  of  supremacy  might  have  been 
offered  at  the  king's  pleasure  to  any  subject,  though  he  kept  his 
conscience  never  so  modestly  to  himself;  and  the  refusal  to 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


sr9 


lake  the  same  oath  without  further  circumstance  was  made  trea- 
son, liul  contrariwise  her  majesty,  not  liking  to  make  windows 
into  men's  hearts  and  secret  thoughts,  except  the  abundance  of 
them  did  overflow  into  overt  or  express  acts  or.  affirmations, 
tempered  her  laws  so  as  it  restraineth  every  manifest  disobe- 
dience in  impugning  and  impeaching  advisedly  and  malicious! \ 
her  majesty's  supreme  power,  maintaining  and  extolling  a  foreign 
jurisdiction.  And  as  for  the  oath,  it  was  altered  by  her  majesty 
into  a  more  grateful  form;  the  hardness  of  the  name  and  appel- 
lation of  supreme  head  was  removed;  and  the  penalty  of  the 
refusal  thereof  turned  only  into  disablement  to  take  any  promo- 
tion, or  to  exercise  any  charge,  and  yet  with  liberty  of  being  re- 
invested therein  if  any  man  should  accept  thereof  during  his  life. 
But  when,  after  Pius  Quiuius  had  excommunicated  her  majesty, 
and  the  bills  of  excommunication  were  published  in  Lon  Ion, 
whereby  her  majesty  was  in  a  sort  proscribed ;  and  that  there- 
upon, as  a  principal  motive  or  preparative,  followed  the  rebellion 
in  the  north;  yet  because  the  ill-humours  of  the  realm  were  by 
that  rebellion  partly  purged,  and  that  she  feared  at  that  time  no 
foreign  invasion,  and  much  less  the  attempt  of  any  within  the 
realm  not  backed  by  some  potent  succour  from  without,  she  con- 
tented herself  to  make  a  law  against  that  special  case  of  bringing 
and  publishing  any  bulls,  or  the  like  instruments ;  whereunto 
was  added  a  prohibition,  upon  pain,  not  of  treason,  but  of  an  in- 
ferior degree  of  punishment,  against  the  bringing  in  of  agnas  Dei, 
hallowed  bread,  and  such  other  merchandise  of  Rome,  as  are 
well  known  not  to  be  any  essential  part  of  the  Romish  religion, 
but  only  to  be  used  in  practice  as  love  tokens  to  inchaut  the 
people's  affections  from  their  allegiance  to  their  natural  sovereign. 
In  all  other  points  her  majesty  continued  her  former  lenity:  but 
when,  about  the  twentieth  year  of  her  reign,  she  had  discovered 
in  the  king  of  Spain  an  intention  to  invade  her  dominions,  and 
that  a  principal  part  of  the  plot  was,  to  prepare  a  party  within 
the  realm  that  might  adhere  to  the  foreigner;  and  after  that  the 
seminaries  began  to  blossom,  and  to  send  forth  daily  priests  and 
professed  men,  who  should  by  vow  taken  at  shrift  reconcile  her 
subjects  from  their  obedience,  yea,  and  bind  many  of  them  to 
attempt  against  her  majesty's  sacred  person;  and  that,  by  the 
poison  which  they  spread,  the  humours  of  papists  were  altered, 
and  that  they  were  no  more  papists  in  conscience,  and  of  soft- 
ness, but  papists  in  faction ;  then  were  there  new  laws  made  for 
the  punishment  of  such  as  should  submit  themselves  to  such  re- 
concilements, or  renunciations  of  obedience.  And  because  it 
was  a  treason  carried  in  the  clouds,  and  in  wonderful  secresy, 
and  came  seldom  to  light,  and  that  there  was  no  presupposition 
thereof  so  great,  as  the  recusants  to  come  to  divine  service,  be- 
cause it  was  set  down  by  their  decrees,  that  to  come  to  church 
before  reconcilement  was  absolutely  heretical  and  damnable : 
Therefore  there  were  laws  added  containing  punishment  pecu- 
niary against  such  recusants,  not  to  enforce  conscience,  but  to 
enfeeble  and  impoverish  the  means  of  those  of  whom  it  resteth 


380 


THE  COURT  OF 


indifferent  and  ambiguous  whether  they  were  reconciled  or  no. 
And  when,  notwithstanding  all  this  provision,  this  poison  was  dis- 
persed so  secretly,  as  that  there  were  no  means  to  stay  it  but  by 
restraining  the  merchants  that  brought  it  in;  then,  lastly,  there  was 
adde  ;  another  law,  whereby  such  seditious  priests  ot  new  erec- 
tion were  exiled,  and  those  that  were  at  that  time  within  the 
land  shipped  over,  and  so  commanded  to  keep  hence  on  pain  of 
treason. 

"This  hath  been  the  proceeding,  though  intermingled  not  only 
with  sundry  examples  of  her  majesty's  grace  towards  such  as 
she  knew  to  be  papists  in  conscience,  and  not  in  faction  and  sin- 
gularity, but  also  with  an  ordinary  mitigation  towards  offenders 
in  the  highest  degree  committed  by  law,  if  they  would  but  protest 
that  in  case  the  realm  should  be  invaded  with  a  foreign  army,  by 
the  pope's  authority,  for  the  catholic  cause,  as  they  term  it,  they 
would  take  part  with  her  majesty  and  not  adhere  to  her  enemies." 
&c. 

The  country  sustained  a  heavy  loss  in  1589  by  the  death  pf 
sir  Walter  Mildmay  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  one  of  the  most 
irreproachable  public  characters  and  best  patriots  of  the  age.  He 
was  old  enough  to  have  received  his  introduction  to  business  in 
the  time  of  Henry  VIII.,  under  whom  he  enjoyed  a  gainful  of- 
fice in  the  court  of  augmentations.  During  the  reign  of  Edward 
he  was  warden  of  the  mint.  Under  Mary,  he  shrowded  himself 
in  that  profound  obscurity  in  which  alone  he  could  make  safety 
accord  with  honour  and  conscience.  Elizabeth,  on  the  death  of 
sir  Richard  Sackville  in  1568,  advanced  Mildmay  to  the  impor- 
tant post  of  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  which  he  held  to  the 
end  of  his  life ;  but  not  so,  it  should  appear,  the  favour  of  her 
majesty,  some  of  his  backfriends,  or  secret  enemies,  having  whis- 
pered in  her  ear,  that  he  was  a  better  patriot  than  subject,  and 
over-popular  in  parliament,  where  he  had  gone  so  far  as  to  com- 
plain that  many  subsidies  were  granted  and  few  grievances  re- 
dressed. Another  strong  ground  of  royal  displeasure  existed  in 
the  imputation  of  puritan  ism  under  which  he  laboured. 

Generously  sacrificing  to  higher  considerations  the  aggrandise- 
ment of  his  children,  Mildmay  devoted  a  large  share  of  the 
wealth  which  he  had  gained  in  the  public  service  to  the  erection 
and  endowment  of  a  college  ; — that  of  Emanuel  at  Cambridge, — 
an  action  little  agreeable  it  seems  to  her  majesty, — for,  on  his 
coming  to  court  after  the  completion  of  this  noble  undertaking, 
she  said  tartly  to  him ;  "  Sir  Walter,  I  hear  you  have  erected  a 
puritan  foundation."  "  No,  Madam,"  replied  he ;  "  far  be  it 
from  me  to  countenance  any  thing  contrary  to  your  established 
laws ;  but  I  have  set  an  acorn,  which,  when  it  comes  to  be  an 
oak,  God  alone  knows  what  will  be  the  fruit  of  it."  That  this 
fruit  however  proved  to  be  of  the  flavour  so  much  distasted  by 
her  majesty,  there  is  good  evidence. 

"  In  the  house  of  pure  Emanuel 
I  had  my  education, 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


381 


Where  some  surmise  I- dazzled  my  eyes 
With  the  light  of  revelation  ;" 

says  "the  Distracted  Puritan,"  in  a  song  composed  in  king 
James's  days  by  the  witty  bishop  Corbet. 

Miliimay  was  succeeded  in  his  office  by  sir  John  Fortescue, 
master  of  the  wardrobe,  a  gentleman  whose  accomplishments  in 
classical  literature  had  induced  the  queen  to  take  him  for  her 
guide  and  assistant  in  the  study  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers. 
In  the  discharge  of  his  new  functions  he  too  was  distinguished 
by  moderation  and  integrity,  so  that  in  this  important  department 
of  administration  no  oppression  was  exercised  upon  the  subject 
during  the  whole  of  the  reign  ; — a  circumstance  highly  conducive 
*  botii  to  the  popularity  of  the  queen,  and  to  the  alacrity  in  grant- 
ing supplies  usually  exhibited  by  her  parliaments. 

The  late  attempt  at  invasion,  so  gloriously  and  happily  frus- 
trated, had  given  a  new  impulse  to  the  public  mind ;  the  gallant 
youth  of  the  country  were  seized  with  an  universal  rage  for  mili- 
tary enterprise,  and  burned  at  once  for  vengeance  and  renown. 
The  riches  and  the  weakness  of  the  Spanish  empire,  both  of  them 
considerably  exaggerated  in  popular  opinion,  tempted  the  hopes 
and  the  cupidity  of  adventurers  of  a  different  class ;  and  by  means 
of  the  united  stimulus  of  gain  and  glory,  a  numerous  fleet  was 
fitted  out  in  the  spring  of  1589  for  an  expedition  to  Portugal, 
which  was  equipped  and  manned  almost  entirely  by  the  exertions 
of  individuals,  the  queen  contributing  only  sixty-six  thousand 
pounds  to  the  expenses,  and  six  of  her  ships  to  the  armament. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  on  the  death  in  1580  of  Henry- 
king  of  Portugal,  Philip  of  Spain  had  possessed  himself  of  that 
kingdom  as  rightful  heir;  having  compelled  don  Antonio,  an  ille- 
gitimate nephew  of  the  deceased  sovereign,  who  had  ventured  to 
dispute  the  succession,  to  quit  the  country,  and  take  refuge  first 
in  France,  and  afterwards  in  England. 

This  pretender  had  hitherto  received  little  support  or  encou- 
ragement at  the  hands  of  Elizabeth  ;  in  fact,  she  had  suffered  him 
to  languish  in  the  most  abject  poverty  ;  for  there  is  a  letter  extant 
from  a  person  about  him  to  lord  Burleigh,*  entreating  that  he 
would  move  her  majesty  either  to  advance  don  Antonio  two  hun- 
dred thousand  crowns  out  of  her  share  of  the  rich  Portuguese 
carrack  captured  by  sir  Francis  Drake,  to  enable  him  to  recover 
his  kingdom, — or  at  least  to  take  upon  herself  the  payment  of  his 
debts,  amounting  to  twelve  or  thirteen  pounds,  without  which  his 
poor  creditors  are  likely  to  be  ruined.  The  first  part  of  this  ex- 
traordinary alternative  the  prudent  princess  certainly  declined  ; 
what  might  be  the  fate  of  the  second  does  not  in  this  place  ap- 
pear:  but  we  learn  elsewhere,  that  during  the  long  vacancy  of 
the  see  of  Ely  which  the  queen  caused  to  succeed  to  the  death  of 
bishop  Cox  in  1581,  a  part  of  its  revenues  were  appropriated  to 
the  maintenance  of  this  unfortunate  competitor  for  royalty.  It 


*  Stiyp«*8  Annals,  vol.  iii.  p.  450. 


o82 


THE  COURT  OF 


was  imagined  however,  by  the  projectors  of  the  present  expedi- 
tion, that  the  discontent  of  the  Portuguese  under  the  yoke  of 
Spain  would  now  incline  them  to  receive  as  a  deliverer  even  this 
spurious  representative  of  their  ancient  race  of  monarchs ;  and 
don  Antonio  received  an  invitation,  which  he  joyfully  embraced, 
to  embark  himself  and  his  fortunes  on  board  the  English  fleet. 

The  armament  consisted  of  180  vessels  of  all  kinds,  carrying 
21,000  men  ;  it  set  sail  from  Plymouth  on  April  18th,  sir  Francis 
Drake  being  admiral,  and  sir  John  Norris  general.  The  earl  of 
Essex,  urged  by  the  romantic  gallantry  of  his  disposition,  after- 
wards joined  the  expedition  with  several  ships  fitted  out  at  his 
own  expense  in  support  of  don  Antonio's  title,  though  he  bore 
in  it  no  regular  command,  since  he  sailed  without  the  consent  or 
privity  of  her  majesty.  The  first  landing  of  the  forces  was  at 
Corunna,  where  having  captured  four  ships  of  war  in  the  har- 
bour, they  took  and  burnfed  the  lower  town  and  made  some  bold 
attempts  on  the  upper,  which  was  strongly  fortified :  but  after 
defeating  with  great  slaughter  a  body  of  Spaniards  who  were  in- 
trenched in  the  neighbourhood,  sir  John  Norris,  finding  it  im- 
practicable to  renew  his  assaults  on  the  upper  town,  on  account 
of  a  general  want  of  powder  in  the  fleet,  re-embarked  his  men, 
already  suffering  from  sickness,  and  made  sail  for  Portugal. 

After  some  consultation  they  landed  at  Penicha,  about  thirty 
miles  to  the  north  of  Lisbon,  took  the  castle  ;  and  having  thrown 
into  it  a  garrison,  every  man  of  which  was  afterwards  put  to  the 
sword  by  the  Spaniards,  they  began  their  march  for  the  capital. 
So  ill  was  the  army  provided,  that  many  died  on  the  road  for 
want  of  food  ;  and  others  who  had  fainted  with  the  heat  must 
also  have  perished,  had  not  Essex,  with  characteristic  generosity, 
caused  all  his  baggage  to  be  thrown  out,  and  the  carriages  to  be 
filled  with  the  sick  and  weary.  Instead  of  the  troops  of  nobility 
and  gentry  by  whom  don  Antonio  had  flattered  himself  and  his 
companions  that  he  should  be  joined  and  recognised,  there  only 
appeared  upon  their  march  a  band  of  miserable  peasants  without 
shoes  or  stockings,  and  one  gentleman  who  presented  him  with  a 
basket  of  plums  and  cherries.  The  English  however  proceeded, 
and  made  themselves  masters  without  difficulty  of  the  suburbs 
of  Lisbon,  in  which  they  found  great  riches ;  but  the  entreaties 
of  don  Antonio,  and  his  anxiety  to  preserve  the  good-will  of  the 
people,  caused  the  general  to  restrain  his  men  from  plunder. 
Essex  distinguished  himself  in  every  skirmish  ;  and,  knocking  at 
the  gates  of  Lisbon  itself,  challenged  the  governor,  or  any  other 
of  equal  rank,  to  single  combat:  but  this  romantic  proposal  was 
prudently  declined  ;  and  though  the  city  w^as  known  to  be  weakly 
guarded,  the  total  want  of  battering  cannon  in  the  English  army 
precluded  the  general  from  making  an  assault. 

In  the  mean  time  Drake,  who  was  to  have  co-operated  with 
the  land  forces  by  an  attack  upon  the  city  from  the  water  side 
found  his  progress  effectually  barred  by  the  forts  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Tagus,  and  was  thus  compelled  to  relinquish  ail  share  in  the 
enterprise.    This  disappointment,  joined  to  the  want  of  ammu 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


383 


iiitiori  and  other  necessaries,  and  the  rapid  progress  of  sickness 
among  the  men,  rendered  necessary  a  speedy  retreat  and  re- 
embarkation.  About  sixty  vessels  lying  at  the  mouth  of  the 
ragus,  laden  with  coin  and  other  articles  of  commerce,  were 
seized  by  the  English,  though  the  property  of  the  Hanse  Towns, 
and  Drake  and  Norris  in  their  return  burned  Vigo:  but  various 
disasters  overtook  the  fleet  on  its  homeward  voyage,  subsequent- 
ly to  its  dispersion  by  a  violent  storm.  On  the  whole,  it  was 
computed  that  not  less  than  eleven  thousand  persons  perished 
in  this  unfortunate  and  ill-planned  expedition,  by  which  no  one 
important  object  had  been  attained ;  and  that  of  eleven  hundred 
gentlemen  who  accompanied  it,  not  more  than  three  hundred  and 
fifty  escaped  the  united  ravages  of  famine,  sickness,  and  the 
sword. 

The  queen,  on  discovering  that  Essex  had  without  permission 
absented  himself  from  her  court  and  from  the  duties  of  his  office 
of  master  of  the  horse,  to  embark  in  the  voyage  to  Portugal,  had 
instantly  dispatched  a  peremptory  order  for  his  return,  enforced 
by  menaces  of  her  utmost  indignation  in  case  of  disobedience; 
but  even  to  this  pressing  mandate  he  had  dared  to  turn  a  deaf 
ear.  During  the  four  or  five  months  therefore  of  his  absence, 
the  whole  court  had  remained  in  fearful  or  exulting  anticipation 
of  the  thunderbolt  about  to  fall  on  his  devoted  head.  But  the 
laurels  with  which  he  had  encircled  his  brows  proved  his  safe- 
guard :  Elizabeth  had  listened  with  a  secret  complacency  to  the 
reports  of  his  valour  and  generosity  which  reached  her  through 
various  channels ;  her  tenderness  had  been  strongly  excited  by 
the  image  of  the  perils  to  which  he  was  daily  exposing  himself; 
and  her  joy  at  his  safe  return,  too  genuine  and  too  lively  for 
concealment,  left  her  so  little  of  the  power  or  the  wish  to  chide, 
that  his  pardon  seemed  granted  even  before  it  could  be  implored. 
Essex  had  too  much  sensibility  not  to  be  deeply  touched  by  this 
affectionate  behaviour  on  the  part  of  his  sovereign  ;  he  redoubled 
his  efforts  to  deserve  the  oblivion  of  his  past  offence,  and  with  a 
success  so  striking,  that  it  was  soon  evident  to  all  that  the  te- 
merity which  might  have  ruined  another  had  but  heightened  and 
confirmed  his  favour. 

Essex  possessed,  as  much  as  Leicester  himself,  the  art  of  sti  - 
mulating Elizabeth  in  his  own  behalf  to  acts  of  munificence;  and 
she  soon  consoled  him  by  some  valuable  grants  for  any  anxiety 
which  her  threatened  indignation  might  have  occasioned  him,  or 
any  disappointment  which  he  might  have  conceived  in  seeing  sir 
Christopher  Hatton  preferred  by  her  to  himself  as  Leicester's 
successor  in  the  office  of  chancellor  of  the  university  of  Cam 
bridge. 

Among  the  gallant  adventurers  in  the  cause  of  (ion  Antonio, 
sir  Walter  Raleigh  had  made  one,  and  he  also  was  received  by 
her  majesty  on  his  return  with  tokens  of  distinguished  favour. 
But  not  long  after  he  embarked  for  Ireland,  in  which  country  he 
remained  without  public  employment  till  the  spring  of  1592, 


384 


THE  COURT  OF 


when  he  undertook  an  expedition  against  the  Spanish  settle  - 
ments in  South  America. 

The  ostensible  purpose  of  his  visit  to  Ireland  was  to  superin- 
tend the  management  of  those  large  estates  which  had  been 
granted  him  in  that  country  ;  but  it  was  the  story  of  the  day  that 
'•  the  earl  of  Essex  had  chased  Raleigh  from  court  and  confined 
him  into  Ireland:"*  and  the  length  of  his  absence,  with  the 
known  enmity  between  these  rival  favourites,  lends  some  coun 
tenance  to  the  suggestion. 

That  Essex,  even  in  the  early  days  of  his  favour,  already  as 
sumed  the  right  of  treating  as  interlopers  such  as  advanced  too 
rapidly  in  the  £<>od  graces  of  his  sovereign,  we  learn  from  an  in- 
cident which  probably  occurred  about  this  time,  and  is  thus  re- 
lated by  Naunton.  "  My  lord  Montjoy  being  but  newly  come  to 
court,  and  then  but  sir  Charles  Blount  had  the  good  fortune  one 
day  to  run  very  well  a  tilt ;  and  the  queen  therewith  was  so  well 
pleased,  that  she  sent  him  a  token  of  her  favour,  a  queen  at  chess 
of  gold,  richly  enamelled,  which  his  servants  had  the  next  day 
fastened  on  his  arm  with  a  crimson  ribbon  ;  which  my  lord  of 
Essex,  as  he  passed  through  the  privy  chamber,  espying,  with  his 
cloak  cast  under  his  arm,  the  better  to  commend  it  to  the  view, 
enquired  what  it  was,  and  for  what  cause  there  fixed.  Sir  Fulk 
Greville  told  him  that  it  was  the  queen's  favour,  which  the  day 
before,  and  after  the  tilting,  she  had  sent  him :  whereat  my  lord 
of  Essex,  in  a  kind  of  emulation,  and  as  though  he  would  have 
limited  her  favour,  said,  •  Now  I  perceive  every  fool  must  have  a 
favour.' 

"  This  bitter  and  public  affront  came  to  sir  Charles  Blount's 
ear,  who  sent  him  a  challenge,  which  was  accepted  by  my  lord; 
and  they  went  near  Marybone-park,'  where  my  lord  was  hurt  in 
the  thigh  and  disarmed  :  the  queen,  missing  the  men,  was  very 
curious  to  learn  the  truth ;  and  when  at  last  it  was  whispered 
out,  she  swore  by  God's  death,  it  was  fit  that  some  one  or  other 
should  take  him  down,  and  teach  him  better  manners,  otherwise 
there  would  be  no  rule  with  him."t 

Notwithstanding  her  majesty's  ostentation  of  displeasure 
against  her  favourite  on  this  occasion,  it  is  pretty  certain  that  he 
could  not  better  have  paid  his  court  to  her  than  by  a  duel  of  which, 
in  spite  of  her  wisdom  and  her  age,  she  seems  to  have  had  the 
weaki\ess  to  imagine  her  personal  charms  the  cause.  She  com- 
pelled however  the  rivals  to  be  reconciled,  from  this  period  all 
the  externals  of  friendship  were  preserved  between  them ;  and 
there  is  eyen  reason  to  believe,  notwithstanding  some  insinuations 
to  the  contrary,  that  latterly  at  least  the  sentiment  became  a 
genuine  on?.  If  the  queen  had  further  insisted  on  cementing 
their  reconciliation  by  an  alliance,  she  would  have  preserved  from 
its  only  considerable  blot  the  brilliant  reputation  of  sir  Charles 
Blount.  This,  courtier,  whilst  he  as  yet  enjoyed  no  higher  rank 
than  that  of  knighthood,  had  conceived  an  ardent  passion  for  a 


*  Birch's  Memoir?. 


f  Fragments  Regalia. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


585 


lister  of  the  earl  of  Essex ;  the  same  who  was  once  destined  to  be 
the  bride  of  Philip  Sidney.  She  returned  his  attachment;  but 
her  friends,  judging  the  match  inferior  to  her  just  pretensions, 
broke  off  the  affair  and  compelled  her  to  give  her  hand  to  lord 
Rich  ;  a  man  of  disagreeable  character,  who  was  the  object  of  her 
aversion.  In  such  a  marriage  the  unfortunate  lady  found  it  im- 
possible to  forget  the  lover  from  whom  tyrannical  authority  had 
severed  her;  and  some  years  after,  when  Montjoy  returned  vic- 
torious from  the  Irish  wars,  she  suffered  herself  to  be  seduced 
by  him  into  a  criminal  connexion,  which  was  detected  after  it 
had  subsisted  for  several  years,  and  occasioned  her  divorce  from 
lord  Rich.  Her  lover,  now  earl  of  Devonshire,  regarded  himself 
as  bound  in  love  and  in  honour  to  make  her  his  wife  ;  but  to  mar- 
ry a  divorced  woman  in  the  lifetime  of  her  husband  was  at  this 
time  so  unusual  a  proceeding,  and  regarded  as  so  violent  a  scan- 
dal, that  Laud,  then  chaplain  to  the  earl  of  Devonshire,  who 
joined  their  hands,  incurred  severe  blame,  and  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  observe  the  anniversary  ever  after  as  a  day  of  humiliation. 
King  James,  in  whose  reign  the  circumstance  took  place,  long 
refused  to  avail  himself  further  of  the  services  of  the  earl ;  and 
the  disgrace  and  vexation  of  the  affair  embittered,  and  some  say 
abridged,  the  clays  of  this  otherwise  admirable  person.  Whether 
any  incidents  connected  with  this  attachment  had  a  share  in 
producing  that  hostile  state  of  feeling  in  the  mind  of  Essex  to- 
wards Blount  which  led  to  their  combat,  remains  matter  of  con- 
jecture. 

This  year  the  customary  festivities  on  the  anniversary  of  her 
majesty's  accession  were  attended  by  one  of  those  romantic 
ceremonies  which  mark  so  well  the  taste  of  the  age  and  of  Eli- 
zabeth. This  was  no  other  than  the  formal  resignation  by  that 
veteran  of  the  tilt-yard,  sir  Henry  Leigh,  of  the  office  of  queen's 
champion,  so  long  his  glory  and  delight.  The  gallant  earl  of 
Cumberland  was  his  destined  successor,  and  the  momentous 
transfer  was  accomplished  after  the  following  fashion. 

Having  first  performed  their  respective  parts  in  the  chivalrous 
exercises  of  the  band  of  knights -tilters,  sir  Henry  and  the  ear- 
presented  themselves  to  her  majesty  at  the  foot  of  the  gallery 
where  she  was  seated,  surrounded  by  her  ladies  and  nobles,  to 
view  the  games.  They  advanced  to  slow  music,  and  a  conceal- 
ed performer  accompanied  the  strain  with  the  following  song. 

My  golden  locks  time  hath  to  silver  turn'd, 
(Oh  time  too  swift,  and  swiftness  never  ceasing) 
My  youth  'gainst  age,  and  age  at  youth  hath  spurn'd  : 
But  spurn'd  in  vain,  youth  waneth  by  increasing, 
Beauty,  strength,  and  youth,  flowers  fading  been, 
Duty,  faith,  and  love,  are  roots  and  evergreen. 

My  helmet  now  shall  make  a  hive  for  bees, 
And  lovers  songs  shall  turn  to  holy  psalms ; 

3  C 


THE  COURT  OF 


A  man  if  arms  must  now  sit  on  his  knees, 
And  feed  on  pray'rs  that  are  old  age's  alms 
And  so  from  court  to  cottage  I  depart ; 
My  saint  is  sure  of  niine  unspotted  heart. 

And  when  I  sadly  sit  in  homely  cell, 

I'll  teach  my  swains  this  carol  for  a  song  :  < 
"  Blest  be  the  hearts  that  think  my  sovereign  well, 
Curs'd  be  the  souls  that  think  to  do  her  wrong." 
Goddess,  vouchsafe  this  aged  man  his  right, 
To  be  your  beadsman  now,  that  was  your  knight. 

During  this  performance,  there  arose  out  of  the  earth  a  pavi 
lion  of  white  taffeta,  supported  on  pillars  resembling  porphyry 
and  formed  to  imitate  the  temple  of  the  Vestal  virgins.  A  su- 
perb altar  was  placed  within  it,  on  which  were  laid  some  rich 
gifts  for  her  majesty.  Before  the  gate  stood  a  crowned  pillar 
embraced  by  an  eglantine,  to  which  a  votive  tablet  was  attached, 
inscribed  "  To  Elizabeth  :"  The  gifts  and  the  tablet  being  with 
great  reverence  delivered  to  the  queen,  and  the  aged  knight  in 
the  meantime  disarmed,  he  offered  up  his  armour  at  the  foot  of 
the  pillar;  then  kneeling,  presented  the  earl  of  Cumberland  to 
her  majesty,  praying  her  to  be  pleased  to  accept  of  him  for  her 
knight  and  to  continue  these  annual  exercises.  The  proposal 
being  graciously  accepted,  sir  Henry  armed  the  earl  and  mount- 
ed him  on  his  horse  :  this  done,  he  clothed  himself  in  a  long  vel- 
vet gown  and  covered  his  head,  in  lieu  of  a  helmet,  with  "a  but- 
toned cap  of  the  country  fashion." 

The  king  of  Scots  had  now  for  a  considerable  time  deserved 
extremely  well  of  Elizabeth.  During  the  whole  period  of  the 
Spanish  armament  he  had  remained  unshaken  in  his  attachment 
to  her  cause,  resolutely  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  the  flattering  of- 
fers of  Philip  II.  with  the  shrewd  remark,  that  all  the  favour  he 
had  to  expect  from  this  monarch  in  case  of  his  success  against 
England,  was  that  of  Polypheme  to  Ulysses  ; — to  be  devoured 
the  last.  A  bon  mot  which  was  carefully  copied  into  The  Eng- 
lish Mercury.  The  ambassador  to  Scotland,  from  an  unfounded 
opinion  that  the  discomfited  armada  sought  shelter  in  the  ports 
of  that  country  under  the  faith  of  some  secret  engagement  with 
James,  had  thought  it  necessary  to  bribe  him  to  fidelity  by  some 
brilliant  promises,  of  which  when  the  danger  was  past,  Elizabeth 
unhandsomely  evaded  the  fulfilment;  but  even  on  this  occasion 
he  abstained  from  any  vehement  expressions  of  indignation  :  in 
short,  his  whole  demeanour  towards  iris  lofty  kinswoman  was 
that  of  a  submissive  expectant  much  more  than  of  a  competitor 
and  rival  prince.  True  it  is,  that  he  had  begun  to  attach  to  him- 
self among  her  nobles  and  courtiers  as  many  adherents  as  his 
means  permitted;  but  besides  that  his  manceuvers  remained  for 
the  most  part  concealed  from  her  knowledge,  they  certainly 
carried  with  them  no  danger  to  her  government.    The  partisans 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


wi  James  were  not,  like  those  of  his  mother,  the  adherents  also 
of  a  religious  faction  leagued  with  the  foreign  powers  most  ini- 
mical to  her  rule,  and  from  whose  machinations  she  was  exposed 
to  daily  peril  of  her  throne  and  life.  They  were  protestants  and 
Englishmen,  and  many  of  them  possessed  of  such  strong  here- 
ditary influence  or  official  rank,  that  it  could  never  become  their 
interest  to  throw  the  country  into  confusion  by  ill-timed  efforts 
in  favour  of  the  king  of  Scots  ;  whose  cause  they  in  fact  em- 
braced with  no  other  view  than  to  secure  the  state  from  commo- 
tion, and  themselves  from  the  loss  of  power  on  the  event  of  the 
queen's  demise.  The  puritan  party  indeed,  by  whom  several 
attempts  were  afterwards  made  in  parliament  to  extort  from  the 
queen  a  settlement  of  the  crown  in  James's  favour,  were  doubt- 
less actuated  in  part  by  discontent  with  the  present  church -es- 
tablishment, and  the  hope  of  seeing  it  superseded  under  James 
by  a  presbyterian  form  resembling  that  of  Scotland.  For  the 
present,  however,  these  religionists  were  sufficiently  repressed 
under  the  iron  rod  of  the  High-commission  court,  and  James  had 
entered  with  them  into  no  regular  correspondence,  and  engaged 
their  attachment  by  no  promises  of  future  indulgence  or  support. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  the  violent  jealousy  with  which  Eli- 
zabeth continued  to  regard  this  feeble  and  inoffensive  young 
king,  in  every  point  so  greatly  her  inferior,  must  rather  be  im- 
puted to  her*  narrowness  and  malignity  of  temper  than  to  any 
dictates  of  sound  policy  or  advisable  precaution ;  and  the  mea- 
sures with  which  it  prompted  her  were  impressed  accordingly 
with  every  character  of  spite  and  meanness.  She  was  peculiarly 
solicitous  to  prevent  Jlmes  from  increasing  his  consequence  by 
marriage,  and  through  innumerable  intrigues  with  his  ministers 
and  favourites  she  had  hitherto  succeeded  in  her  object.  When 
he  appeared  to  have  set  his  mind  on  a  union  with  the  eldest 
daughter  of  the  king  of  Denmark,  she  contrived  to  interpose  so 
many  delays  and  obstacles  that  this  sovereign,  conceiving  him- 
self trifled  with,  ended  the  affair  by  giving  the  princess  in  mar- 
riage to  another.  To  embarrass  matters  still  more,  she  next 
proposed  to  James  a  match  with  the  sister  of  the  king,  of  Na- 
varre, a  princess  much  older  than  himself,  destitute  of  fortune, 
and  whose  brother  might  be  influenced  to  protract  the  negotia- 
tion to  any  length  convenient  to  his  valuable  ally  the  queen  of 
England.  This  proposal  being  declined  by  James,  and  overtures 
made  in  his  name  to  a  younger  daughter  of  the  Danish  house,  she 
again  set  her  engines  at  work  to  thwart  his  wishes:  but  indigna- 
tion and  an  amourous  impatience  for  once  lent  to  James  resolu- 
tion sufficient  to  carry  his  point.  Disregarding  a  declaration  of 
his  privy-council  against  the  match,  he  instigated  the  citizens  of 
Edinburgh  to  take  up  arms  in  his  cause,  and  finally  accomplish- 
ed the  sending  out  of  a  splendid  embassy,  by  which  the  marriage- 
articles  were  speedily  settled,  and  the  princess  conducted  on 
board  the  fleet  which  was  to  convey  her  to  Scotland.  A  violent 
storm  having  driven  her  for  shelter  into  a  port  of  Norway,  the 
young  monarch  carried  his  gallantry  so  far  as  to  set  sail  in  quest 


ob8 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  her;  and  re-conducting  her,  at  the  request  of  the  king  her 
father  to  Copenhagen,  he  there  passed  the  winter  in  great  joy 
and  festivity ;  and  as  soon  as  the  season  would  permit,  conduct- 
ed his  royal  consort  home  in  triumph,  and  crowned  her  with  all 
the  magnificence  that  Scotland  could  display.  Seeing  the  turn 
which  matters  had  taken,  Elizabeth  now  made  a  virtue  of  neces- 
sity, and  dispatched  a  solemn  embassy  to  express  to  her  good 
brother  of  Scotland  her  hearty  congratulations  on  his  nuptials, 
and  her  satisfaction  in  his  happy  return  from  so  adventurous  a 
voyage. 

In  April  1590  died  sir  Francis  Walsingham,  principal  secre- 
tary of  state,  whose  name  is  found  in  such  intimate  connexion 
'.villi  the  whole  domestic  policy  of  Elizabeth  during  several 
eventful  years,  that  his  character  is  in  a  manner  identified  with 
that  of  the  measures  at  this  period  pursued. 

This  eminent  person,  in  his  youth  an  exile  for  the  protestant 
cause,  retained  through  life  so  serious  a  sense  of  religion  as  some- 
times to  expose  him  to  the  suspicion  of  puritanism.  In  his  pri- 
vate capacity  he  was  benevolent,  friendly,  and  accounted  a  man 
of  strict  integrity  :  but  it  is  right  that  public  characters  should 
principally  be  estimated  by  that  part  of  their  conduct  in  which 
the  public  is  concerned  ;  and  to  Walsingham  as  a  minister  the 
unsullied  reputation  of  virtue  and  honour  is  not  to  be  conceded. 
Unlike  that  pure  and  noble  patriot  who  "would  have  lost  his 
life  with  pleasure  to  serve  his  country,  but  would  not  have  done 
a  base  thing  to  save  it,"  this  statesman  seems  to  have  held  that 
few  base  things  ought  to  be  scrupled  by  which  his  queen  and 
country  might  be  served. 

That  Walsingham  was  of  unimpeached  fidelity  towards  his 
sovereign  requires  no  proof ;  that  he  was  not  stimulated  by 
\  iews  of  private  emolument  seems  also  to  be  satisfatorily  evinced, 
though  somewhat  to  the  discredit  of  his  mistress,  by  the  load  of 
debt  incurred  in  his  official  capacity  under  the  pressure  of  which 
he  lived  and  died  :  but  here  our  praise  of  his  public  virtue  must 
end.  It  is  impossible  to  regard  without  indignation  and  disgust 
the  system  of  artifice  and  intrigue  which  he  contrived  for  the 
purpose  of  insnaring  the  persecuted  and  therefore  disaffected 
catholics ;  and  while  due  credit  is  given  to  his  unwearied  dili- 
gence and  remarkable  sagacity  in  detecting  dangerous  conspi- 
racies, it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  extraordinary  encourage- 
ments held  out  by  him  to  spies  and  informers, — those  pests  of  a 
commonwealth, — must  in  numberless  instances  have  rendered 
himself  the  dupe,  and  innocent  persons  the  victims,  of  designing 
villany.  Looking  even  to  the  immediate  results  of  his  measures, 
it  may  triumphantly  be  demanded  by  the  philanthropist  and  the 
sage,  whether  a  system  less  artificial,  less  treacherous  and  less 
cruel,  would  not  equally  well  have  succeeded  in  protecting  the 
person  of  the  queen  from  the  machinations  of  traitors,  with  the 
further  and  inestimable  advantage  of  preserving  her  government 
from  reproach,  and  the  national  character  from  degradation. 

That  the  system  of  Walsingham  was  in  the  main  that  also  of 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


389 


his  Court  and  of  his  age,  is  indeed  true;  and  this  consideration 
might  in  some  degree  plead  his  excuse,  did  it  not  appear  that 
there  was  in  his  personal  character  a  native  subtilty  and  talent, 
of  insinuation,  which,  aptly  conspiring  with  the  nature  of  his  of- 
fice, might  truly  be  said  to  render  his  duty  his  delight ; — a  fea- 
ture of  his  mind  which  is  thus  happily  delineated  by  a  witty  and 
ingenious  writer. 

"  None  alive  did  better  ken  the  secretary's  craft,  to  get  coun- 
sels out  of  others  and  keep  them  in  himself.  Marvellous  his  sa- 
gacity in  examining  suspected  persons,  either  to  make  them  con- 
fess the  truth,  or  confound  themselves  by  denying  it  to  their  de- 
tection. Cunning  his  hands,  who  could  unpick  the  cabinets  in 
the  pope's  conclave  ;  quick  his  ears,  who  could  hear  at  London 
what  was  whispered  at  Rome ;  and  numerous  the  spies  and  eyes 
of  this  Argus  dispersed  in  all  places. 

"  The  Jesuits,  being  out  shot  in  their  own  bow,  complained 
that  he  out  equivocated  their  equivocation,  having  a  mental  re- 
servation deeper  and  further  than  theirs.  They  tax  him  for 
making  heaven  bow  too  much  to  earth,  oft-times  borrowing  a 
point  of  conscience  with  full  intent  never  to  pay  it  again  ;  whom 
others  excused  by  reasons  of  state  and  dangers  of  the  times.  In- 
deed his  simulation  (which  all  allow  lawful)  was  as  like  to  dis- 
simulation (condemned  by  all  good  men)  as  two  things  could  be 
which  were  not  the  same.  He  thought  that  gold  might,  but  in- 
telligence could  not,  be  bought  too  dear ; — the  cause  that  so  great 
a  statesman  left  so  small  an  estate,  and  so  public  a  person  was  so 
privately  buried  in  St.  Pauls."* 

The  long  state  of  infirmity  which  preceded  the  death  of  Wal- 
singham,  had  afforded  abundant  opportunity  for  various  intrigues 
and  negotiations  respecting  the  appointment  of  his  successor  in 
office.  Burleigh  hoped  to  make  the  choice  of  her  Majesty  fall 
on  his  son  Robert ;  Essex  was  anxious  to  decide  it  in  favour 
of  the  discarded  Davison,  who  seems  to  have  been  performing 
some  part  of  the  functions  of  a  secretary  of  state  during  the  illness 
of  Walsingham,  though  he  did  not  venture  to  appear  in  the  sight  of 
his  still  offended  mistress.  No  one  was  more  susceptible  of  ge- 
nerous emotions  than  Essex  ;  and  it  ought  not  to  be  doubted  that 
much  of  the  extraordinary  zeal  which  he  manifested,  during  two 
or  three  entire  years,  in  the  cause  of  this  unfortunate  and  ill- 
treated  man,  is  to  be  ascribed  to  genuine  friendship  :  but  neither 
must  it  be  concealed  that  this  struggle  for  the  nomination  of  a  se- 
cretary was  in  effect  the  great  and  decisive  trial  of  strength  be- 
tween himself  and  the  Cecils.  Several  letters  have  been  printed, 
written  by  Essex  to  Davison,  and  bearing  date  between  the  years 
1 587  and  1590,  from  which  a  few  extracts  may  be  worth  tran- 
scribing, both  for  the  excellence  of  the  style  and  the  light  which 
they  reflect  on  the  behaviour  and  sentiments  of  Elizabeth  in  this 
matter.  "  I  had  speech  with  her  Majesty  yesternight  after  my 
departure  from  you,  and  I  did  find  that  the  success  of  my  spoor!; 

*  Fuller's  Worthies  in  Kent. 


390 


THE  COURT  OF 


(although  I  hoped  for  good)  yet  did  much  overrun  my  expectation 
...  I  made  her  majesty  see  what,  in  your  health,  in  your  for- 
tune, in  your  reputation  in  the  world,  you  had  suffered  since  the 
time  that  it  was  her  pleasure  to  commit  you  ;  I  told  her  how 
many  friends  and  well  wishers  the  world  did  afford  you,  and 
how,  for  the  most  part,  throughout  the  whole  realm  her  best  sub 
jects  did  wish  that  she  would  do  herself  the  honour  to  repair  for 
you  and  restore  to  you  that  state  which  she  had  overthrown ; 
your- humble  suffering  of  these  harms  and  reverend  regard  to  hei 
majesty,  must  needs  move  a  princess  so  noble  and  so  just  to  do 
you  right ;  and  more  I  had  said,  if  my  gift  of  speech  had  been 
any  way  comparable  to  my  love.  Her  majesty  seeing  her  judg- 
ment opened  by  the  story  of  her  own  actions,  showed  a  very  feel- 
ing compassion  of  you,  she  gave  you  many  praises,  and  among 
the  rest,  that  she  seemed  to  please  herself  in  was,  that  you  were 
a  man  of  her  own  choice.  In  truth  she  was  so  well  pleased  with 
those  things  that  she  spake  and  heard  of  you,  that  I  dare  (if  of 
things  future  there  be  any  assurance)  promise  to  myself  that 
your  peaee  will  be  made  to  your  content  and  the  desire  of  your 
friends,  I  mean  in  her  favour  and  your  own  fortune,  to  a  better 
estate  than,  or  at  least  the  same  you  had,  which  with  all  my 
power  I  will  employ  myself  to  effect."  &c. 

That  these  sanguine  hopes  were  soon  checked,  appears  by  the 
following  passage  of  a  subsequent  letter.  "  I  have,  as  I  could, 
taken  my  opportunity  since  I  saw  you  to  perform  as  much  as  I 
promised  you  ;  and  though  in  all  I  have  been  able  to  effect  no- 
thing, yet  even  now  I  have  had  better  leisure  to  solicit  the  queen 
than  in  this  stormy  time  I  did  hope  for.  My  beginning  was,  as 
being  amongst  others  entreated  to  move  her  in  your  behalf ;  my 
course  was,  to  lay  open  your  sufferings  and  your  patience  ;  in 
them  you  had  felt  poverty,  restraint  and  disgrace,  and  yet  you 
showed  nothing  but  faith  and  humility  ;  faith,  as  been  never  wea- 
ried nor  discouraged  to  do  her  service,  humbleness,  as  content 
to  forget  all  the  burdens  that  had  been  laid  upon  you,  and  to 
serve  her  majesty  with  as  frank  and  willing  a  heart  as  they  that 
have  received  greatest  grace  from  her.  To  this  I  received  no  an- 
swer but  in  general  terms,  that  her  honour  was  much  touched  ; 
your  presumption  had  been  intolerable,  and  that  she  could  not 
let  it  slip  out  of  her  mind.  When  I  urged  your  access  she  de- 
nied it,  but  so  as  I  had  no  cause  to  be  afraid  to  speak  again. 
When  I  offered  in  them  both  to  reply,  she  fell  into  other  dis- 
course, and  so  we  parted."  &c. 

On  the  death  of  Walsingham  he  writes  thus  "  Upon  this 

unhappy  accident  I  have  tried  to  the  bottom  what  the  queen 
will  do  for  you,  and  what  the  credit  of  your  solicitor  is  worth, 
I  urged  not  the  comparison  between  you  and  any  other,  but  in 
my  duty  to  her  and  zeal  to  her  service  I  did  assure  her,  that 
she  had  not  any  other  in  England  that  would  for  these  three  or 
four  years  know  how  to  settle  himself  to  support  so  great  a  bur- 
then. She  gave  me  leave  to  speak,  heard  me  with  patience,  con- 
fessed with  me  that  none  was  so  sufficient,  and  would  not  denv 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


391 


but  that  which  she  lays  to  your  charge  was  done  without  hope, 
Fear,  malice,  envy,  or  any  respects  of  your  own,  but  merely  for 
her  safety  both  of  state  and  person.  In  the  end  she  absolutely 
denied  to  let  you  have  that  place  and  willed  me  to  rest  satisfied, 
for  she  was  resolved.  Thus  much  I  write  to  let  you  know,  I  am 
more  honest  to  my  friends  than  happy  in  their  cases."  &c. 

As  the  fear  of  giving  offence  to  the  king  of  Scots  was  one  reason 
or  pretext  for  the  implacability  of  the  queen  towards  Davison, 
Essex  hazarded  the  step  of  writing  to  request,  as  a  personal  fa- 
vour to  himself,  the  forgiveness  and  good  offices  of  this  monarch 
in  behalf  of  the  man  who  bore  the  blame  of  his  mother's  death. 
Nothing  could  be  more  dexterous  than  the  turn  of  this  letter  ; 
but  what  reception  it  found  we  do  not  discover.  On  the  whole,  all 
his  efforts  were  unavailing :  the  longer  Elizabeth  reflected  on  the 
matter,  the  less  she  felt  herself  able  to  forgive  the  presumption  of 
the  rash  man  who  had  anticipated  her  final  resolution  on  the 
fate  of  Mary.  Other  considerations  probably  concurred  ;  as,  the 
apprehension  which  seems  to  have  been  of  perpetual  recurrence 
to  her  mind,  of  rendering  her  young  favourite  too  confident  and 
presuming  by  an  uniform  course  of  success  in  his  applications  to 
her  ;  the  habitual  ascendency  of  Burleigh  ;  and,  probably,  some 
distrust  of  the  capacity  of  Davison  for  so  difficult  and  important 
a  post. 

In  conclusion,  no  principal  secretary  was  at  present  appointed; 
but  Robert  Cecil  was  admitted  as  an  assistant  to  his  father,  who 
resumed  on  this  condition  the  duties  of  the  office,  and  held  it  as 
it  were  in  trust,  till  her  majesty,  six  years  afterwards,  was 
pleased  to  sanction  his  resignation  in  favour  of  his  son,  now  fully 
established  in  her  confidence  and  good  opinion.  Of  Davison  no- 
thing further  is  known ;  probably  he  did  not  long  survive. 

Some  time  in  the  year  1590,  the  earl  of  Essex  married  in  a 
private  manner  the  widow  of  sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  daughter  of 
Walsingham ;  a  step  with  which  her  majesty  did  not  scruple  to 
show  herself  highly  offended.  The  inferiority  of  the  connexion 
in  the  two  articles  of  birth  and  fortune  to  the  just  pretensions 
of  the  earl,  and  the  circumstances  that  the  union  had  been  formed 
without  that  previous  consultation  of  her  gracious  pleasure, — 
which  from  her  high  nobility  and  favourite  courtiers,  and  espe- 
cially from  those  who,  like  Essex  and  his  lady,  shared  the  ho- 
nour of  her  relationship,  she  expected  as  a  homage  and  almost 
claimed  as  a  right, — were  the  ostensible  grounds  of  her  dis- 
pleasure. But  that  peculiar  compound  of  ungenerous  feelings 
which  rendered  her  the  universal  foe  of  matrimony,  exalted  on 
this  occasion  by  a  jealousy  too  humiliating  to  be  owned,  but  too 
powerful  to  be  repressed,  formed  without  doubt  the  more  genuine 
sources  of  her  deep  chagrin.  The  courtiers  quickly  penetrated 
the  secret  of  her  heart ;  for  what  vice,  what  weakness,  can  long 
lurk  unsuspected  in  a  royal  bosom?  and  it  is  thus  that  John  Stan- 
hope, one  of  her  attendants,  ventures  to  write  on  the  subject  to 
Lord  Talbot. 

''This  night,  God  willing,  she  will  to  Richmond,  and  on  Sa 


392 


THE  COURT  OF 


turd  ay  next  to  Somerset  house,  and  if  she  should  overcome  her 
passion  against  my  lord  of  Essex  for  his  marriage,  no  doubt  she 
would  be  much  quieter ;  yet  does  she  use  it  more  temperately 
than  was  thought  for,  and,  God  be  thanked,  doth  not  strike  all 
that  she  threats.*  The  earl  doth  use  it  with  good  temper,  con- 
cealing his  marriage  as  much  as  so  open  a  matter  may  be :  not 
that  he  denies  it  to  any,  but  for  her  majesty's  better  satisfaction, 
is  pleased  that  my  lady  shall  live  very  retired  in  her  mother's 
house."t 

On  the  whole,  the  indignation  of  the  queen  against  Essex  stop- 
ped very  short  of  the  rage  with  which  she  had  been  transported 
against  Leicester  on  a  similar  occasion ;  she  never  even  talked 
of  sending  him  to  prison  for  his  marriage.  Her  good  sense  came 
to  her  assistance  somewhat  indeed  too  late  for  her  own  dignity, 
but  soon  enough  to  intercept  any  serious  mischief  to  the  earl ; 
and  having  found  leisure  to  reflect  on  the  folly  and  disgrace  of 
openly  maintaining  an  ineffectual  resentment,  she  soon  after  re  - 
admitted the  offender  to  the  same  station  of  seeming  favour  as 
before.  There  has  appeared,  however,  some  ground  to  suspect 
that  the  queen  never  entirely  dismissed  her  feelings  of  mortifi- 
cation ;  or  again  reposed  in  Essex  the  same  unbounded  confi- 
dence with  which  she  had  once  honoured  him.  Fiom  a  passage 
of  a  letter  addressed  by  lord  Buckhurst  to  sir  Robert  Sidney, 
then  governour  of  the  Brill,  we  learn,  that  in  the  autumn  of  the 
next  year  she  still  retained  such  displeasure  against  sir  Robert 
for  having  been  present  at  a  banquet  given  by  Essex,  either  on 
occasion  of  his  marriage,  or  with  a  view  to  the  furtherance  of 
some  design  of  his  which  excited  her  suspicion,  that  she  could 
not  be  induced  to  grant  him  leave  of  absence  for  a  visit  to  Eng- 
land. 

But  cares  and  occupations  of  a  nature  peculiarly  uncongenial 
with  the  indulgence  of  sentimental  sorrows,  now  claimed,  and 
not  in  vain,  the  serious  thoughts  of  this  prudent  and  vigilant 
princess.  The  low  state  of  her  finances,  exhausted  by  no  waste- 
ful prodigalities,  but  by  the  necessary  measures  of  national  de- 
fence and  the  politic  aid  which  she  had  extended  to  the  United 
Provinces  and  to  the  French  Hugonots,  now  threatened  to  place 
her  in  a  painful  dilemma.  She  must  either  desert  her  allies,  and 
suffer  her  navy  to  relapse  into  the  dangerous  state  of  weakness 
from  which  she  had  exerted  all  her  efforts  to  raise  it,  or  summon 
a  new  parliament  for  the  purpose  of  making  fresh  demands  upon 
the  purses  of  her  people;  and  this  at  the  risk  either  of  shaking 
their  attachment,  or, — a  humiliation  not  to  be  endured, — seeing 
herself  compelled  to  sacrifice  to  the  importunities  of  the  popular 
members  some  of  the  more  oppressive  branches  of  her  preroga- 
tive ;  the  right  of  purveyance  for  instance,  or  that  of  granting 
monopolies ;  both  of  which  she  had  suffered  to  grow  into  enor- 
mous grievances.    Mature  reflection  discovered  to  her,  however, 

*  It  may  be  regarded  as  dubious  whether  this  expression  is  to  be  understood  lite 
rally  or  metaphorically. 

f"  Illustrations"  by  Lodge. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


393 


a  third  alternative  ;  that  of  practising  a  still  stricter  economy  on 
tide  hand,  and  on  the  other,  of  increasing  the  productiveness  to 
the  exchequer  of  the  customs  and  other  branches  of  revenue,  by 
reforming  abuses,  by  detecting  frauds  and  embezzlements,  and 
by  cutting  off  the  exorbitant  profits  of  collectors. 

Tikis  last  plan,  which  best  accorded  with  her  disposition,  was 
that  adopted  by  Elizabeth.  It  may  be  mentioned  as  a  charac- 
teristic trait,  that  a  few  years  before  she  had  accepted  with 
ihanks  an  ofter  secretly  made  to  herself  by  some  person  holding 
an  inferior  station  in  the  customs,  of  a  full  disclosure  of  the  im- 
positions practised  upon  her  in  that  department.  She  had  ad- 
mitted this  voluntary  informer  several  times  to  her  presence; 
had  imposed  silence  in  the  tone  of  a  mistress  on  the  remonstran- 
ces of  Leicester,  Burleigh,  and  Walsingham,  who  indignantly 
urged  that  he  was  not  of  a  rank  to  be  thus  countenanced  in  ac- 
cusation of  his  superiors  ;  and  had  reaped  the  reward  of  this  ju- 
dicious patronage,  by  finding  herself  entitled  to  demand  from 
her  farmer  of  the  customs  an  annual  rent  of  forty-two  thousand 
pounds,  instead  of  the  twelve  thousand  pounds  which  he  had  for- 
merly paid.  She  now  exacted  from  him  a  further  advance  of  ight 
thousand  pounds  per  annum  ;  and  stimulated  Burleigh  to  such  a 
rigid  superintendence  of  all  the  details  of  public  economy  as 
produced  a  very  important  general  result.  It  was  probably  in  the 
ensuing  parliament  that,  a  conference  being  held  between  the  two 
houses  respecting  a  bill  for  making  the  patrimonial  estates  of  ac- 
countants liable  for  their  arrears  to  the  queen,  and  the  commons 
desiring  that  it  might  not  be  retrospective,  the  lord -treasurer 
pithily  said,  "My  lords,  if  you  had  lost  your  purse  by  the  way, 
would  you  look  back  or  forwards  to  find  it  ?  The  queen  hath  lost 
her  purse." 

This  rigid  parsimony,  at  once  the  virtue  and  the  foible  of  Eli- 
zabeth, was  attended  accordingly  with  its  good  and  its  evil.  It 
endeared  her  to  the  people,  whom  it  protected  from  the  imposition 
of  new  and  oppressive  taxes  ;  but,  being  united  in  the  complex 
character  of  this  remarkable  woman  with  an  extraordinary  taste 
for  magnificence  in  all  that  related  to  her  personal  appearance, 
it  betrayed  her  into  a  thousand  meannesses,  which,  in  spite  of  all 
the  arts  of  graciousness  in  which  she  was  an  adept,  served  to 
alienate  the  affections  of  such  as  more  nearly  approached  her. 
Her  nobles  found  themselves  heavily  burthened  by  the  long  and 
frequent  visits  which  she  paid  them  at  their  country-seats,  at- 
tended always  by  an  enormous  retinue  ;  as  well  as  by  the  con- 
tributions to  her  jewelry  and  wardrobe  which  custom  required 
of  them  under  the  name  of  new  year's  gifts,  and  on  all  occasions 
when  they  had  favours,  or  even  justice,  to  ask  at  her  hands.* 

*  Lists  of  the  New  Year's  Gifts  received  by  Eliza] ieth  during  many  years,  have 
more  than  once  appeared  in  print.  They  show  that  not  only  jewels,  trinkets,  rich 
robes,  and  every  ornamental  article  of  dress,  were  abundantly  supplied  to  her  from 
ibis  source,  but  that  sets  of  body  linen  worked  with  black  silk  round  the  bosom  and 
sleeves,  were  regarded  as  no  inappropriate  offering  from  peers  of  the  realm  to  the 
maiden-queen.  The  presents  of  the  bishops  and  of  some  of  the  nobihtv  alwovs  con- 

3D 


394 


THE  COURT  OF 


There  were  few  of  the  inferior  suitors  and  court-attendants  com  - 
posing the  crowd  by  which  she  had  a  vanity  in  seeing  herself 
constantly  surrounded,  who  did  not  find  cause  bitterly  to  rue  the 
day  when  first  her  hollow  smiles  and  flattering  speeches  seduced 
them  to  long  years  of  irksome,  servile,  and  often  profitless  as 
siduity. 

Bacon,  in  his  Apophthegms  relates  on  this  subject  the  following 

anecdote.    "  Queen  Elizabeth,  seeing  sir  Edward  in  her 

garden,  looked  out  at  her  window  and  asked  him,  in  Italian, 
'  '  What  does  a  man  think  of  when  he  thinks  of  nothing  ?'  Sir 
Edward, -who  had  not  had  the  effect  of  some  of  the  queen's  grants 
so  soon  as  he  had  hoped  and  desired,  paused  a  little,  and  then 
made  answer,  '  Madam,  he  thinks  of  a  woman's  promise.'  The 
queen  shrunk  in  her  'lead,  but  was  heard  to  say,  '  Well,  sir  Ed- 
ward, I  must  not  confute  you  :  anger  makes  dull  men  witty,  but 
it  keeps  them  poor.'  " 

"  Queen  Elizabeth,"  says  the  same  author,  "  was  dilatory  enough 
in  suits  of  her  own  nature;  and  the  lord -treasurer  Burleigh,  be 
ing  a  wise  man,  and  willing  therein  to  feed  her  humour,  would 
say  to  her,  'Madam,  you  do  well  to  let  suitors  stay  ;  for  I  shall 
tell  you,  Bis  dat  qui  cito  dat ;  if  you  grant  them  speedily,  they 
will  come  again  the  sooner.'  " 

It  is  probable,  that  the  popular  story  of  this  minister's  inter 
cepting  the  very  moderate  bounty  which  her  majesty  had  propos 
ed  to  herself  the  honour  of  bestowing  on  Spenser,  is  untrue  with 
respect  to  this  great  poet ;  since  the  four  lines  relating  to  the 
c  ircumstance, 

"  Madam, 

You  bid  your  treasurer  on  a  time 
To  give  me  reason  for  my  rhime, 
But  from  that  time  and  that  season 
I  have  had  nor  rhyme  nor  reason,'* 

Long  attributed  to  Spenser,  are  now  known  to  be  Churchyard's, 
Yet  that  the  author  of  the  Faery  Queen  had  similar  injuries  to 
endure,  is  manifest  from  those  lines  of  unrivalled  energy  in  which 
the  poet,  from  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  describes  the  miseries 
of  a  profitless  court-attendance.  Few  readers  will  have  forgotten 
a  passage  so  celebrated ;  but  it  will  here  be  read  with  peculiai 
interest,  as  illustrative  of  the  character  of  Elizabeth  and  thesuf 
fe  rings  of  her  unfortunate  courtiers. 

fc  Full  little  knowest  thou  that  hast  not  tried 
What  hell  it  is  in  suing  long  to  bide; 
To  lose  good  days  that  might  be  better  spent; 
To  waste  long  nights  in  pensive  discontent ; 

stated  of  gold  pieces,  to  the  value  of  from  five  to  twenty  or  thirty  pounds,  contained 
in  embnid.-red  silk  purses.  Her  majesty  distributed  at  the  same  season  pieces  q! 
gift  plate  ;  but  not  always  to  the  same  persons  from  whom  ^he  had  received  presents, 
nor,  apparently,  to  an  equal  amount. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


To  speed  to-day.  to  be  put  back  to-morrow  ; 
To  feed  on  hope,  to  pine  with  fear  and  sorrow  ; 
To  have  thy  prince's  grace,  yet  want  her  peers  ; 
To  have  thy  asking,  yet  wait  many  years; 
»  To  fret  thy  soul  with  crosses  and  with  cares  ; 
To  eat  thy  heart  through  comfortless  despairs  ; 
To  fawn,  to  crouch,  to  wait,  to  ride,  to  run  ; 
To  spend,  to  give,  to  want,  to  be  undone.'' 

Mother  Hubbard's  Tale. 

One  of  the  most  laudable  objects  of  the  parsimony  exercised  by 
Elizabeth  at  this  period  was  that  of  enabling  herself  to  aflford  ef- 
fectual aid  to  Henry  IV.  of  France,  now  struggling,  with  adverse 
fortune  but  invincible  resolution,  to  conquer  from  the  united  ar- 
mies of  Spain  and  the  League  the  throne  which  was  his  birth- 
right. In  the  depth  of  his  distress,  just  when  his  Swiss  and  Ger- 
man auxiliaries  were  on  the  point  of  disbanding  themselves  for 
want  of  pay,  the  friendship  of  Elizabeth  came  in  aid  of  his  ne- 
cessities with  a  supply  of  twenty-two  thousand  pounds ;  a 
sum,  trifling  as  it  may  seem  in  modern  estimation,  which  sufficed 
to  rescue  Henry  from  his  immediate  embarrassment,  and  which 
he  frankly  avowed  to  be  the  largest  he  had  ever  seen.  The  gene- 
rosity of  his  ally  did  not  stop  here  ;  for  she  speedily  equipped  a 
body  of  four  thousand  men  and  sent  them  to  join  him  at  Dieppe 
under  command  of  the  gallant  lord  Willoughby  By  this  rein- 
forcement Henry  was  enabled  to  march  to  Paris  and  possess  him- 
self of  its  suburbs,  and  subsequently  to  engage  in  several  other 
enterprises,  in  which  he  gratefully  acknowledged  the  eminent 
service  rendered  him  by  the  valour  and  fidelity  of  this  band  of 
English. 

The  next  year  Elizabeth,  alarmed  at  seeing  several  of  the 
ports  of  Bretagne  opposite  to  her  own  shores  garrisoned  by  Spa- 
nish troops,  whom  the  Leaguers  had  called  into  their  assistance, 
readily  entered  into  a  new  treaty  with  Henry,  by  virtue  of  which 
she  sent  a  fresh  supply  of  three  thousand  men  to  assist  him  in 
the  recovery  of  this  province.  Her  expenses,  however,  were  to 
be  repaid  by  the  king  after  the  expulsion  of  the  enemy. 

Sir  John  Norris,  the  appointed  leader  of  this  force,  ranked 
among  the  most  eminent  of  Elizabeth's  captains,  and  was  also 
possessed  of  some  hereditary  claims  to  her  regard,  which  she  did 
not  fail  to  acknowledge  as  far  as  the  jealousy  of  her  favourites 
would  give  her  leave.  One  of  sir  John's  grandfathers  was  that 
Norris  who  suffered  in  the  cause  of  Anne  Boleyn  ;  the  other  was 
lord  Williams  of  Tame,  to  whom  she  had  herself  been  indebted 
for  so  much  respectful  attention  in  the  days  of  her  greatest  ad- 
versity. She  had  called  up  his  father  to  the  house  of  peers,  as 
lord  Norris  of  Ricot ;  and  his  mother  she  constantly  addressed 
by  a  singular  term  of  endearment,  "  My  own  Crow."  This  pair 
had  six  sons,  of  whom  sir  John  was  the  eldest; — all,  it  is  said, 
brave  men,  addicted  to  arms,  and  much  respected  by  her  majes- 
ty. But  an  unfortunate  quarrel  with  the  four  sons  of  sir  Francis 


39b 


THE  COURT  OF 


Knollcs,  their  Oxfordshire  neighbour,  arising  out  oi  the  tourna- 
ment  in  which  the  two  brotherhoods  were  opposed  to  each  other, 
procured  to  the  Norrises  the  lasting  enmity  of  this  family, 
which,  strong  both  by  its  relationship  to  the  queen  and  its  close 
alliance  with  Leicester,  was  able  to  impede  their  advancement 
to  stations  equal  to  their  merits. 

Sir  John  Norris  learned  the  rudiments  of  military  science 
under  the  celebrated  admiral  Coligni,  to  whom  in  his  early 
youth  he  acted  as  a  page ;  and  he  enlarged  his  experience  as 
captain  of  the  English  volunteers  who  in  1578  generously  car- 
ried the  assistance  of  their  swords  to  the  oppressed  Netherland- 
er when  they  had  rushed  to  arms  in  the  sacred  cause  of  liberty 
and  conscience.  This  gallant  band  particularly  signalised  its 
valour  in  the  repulse  of  an  assault  made  by  don  John  of  Austria 
upon  the  Dutch  camp  ;  a  hot  action,  in  which  Norris  had  three 
horses  shot  under  him.  In  1588  he  was  a  distinguished  member 
of  the  council  of  war.  The  expedition  to  Portugal  in  which  he 
commanded  has  been  already  related,  and  its  ill-success  was 
certainly  imputable  to  no  want  of  courage  or  conduct  on  his  part. 
In  the  war  of  Bretagne  he  gained  high  praise  by  a  skilful  retreat, 
in  Which  he  drew  off  his  small  band  of  English  safe  and  entire 
amid  a  host  of  foes.  We  shall  afterwards  hear  of  him  in  a  high 
command  in  Ireland. 

Military  glory  was  the  darling  object  of  the  ambition  of  Essex ; 
and  jealous  perhaps  of  the  fame  which  sir  John  Norris  was  ac- 
quiring in  the  French  wars,  he  prevailed  upon  the  queen  to  grant 
him  the  command  of  a  fresh  body  of  troops  destined  to  assist 
Henry  in  expelling  the  Leaguers  from  Normandy.  The  new 
general  was  deeply  mortified  at  being  obliged  to  remain  for  some 
time  inactive  at  Dieppe,  while  the  French  king  was  carrying  his 
arms  into  another  quarter,  whither  Essex  was  restrained  by  the 
positive  commands  of  his  sovereign  from  following  him.  At 
length  they  formed  in  concert  the  siege  at  Rouen  ;  but  when  the 
town  was  nearly  reduced  to  extremity,  an  unexpected  march  of 
the  duke  of  Parma  compelled  Henry  to  desert  the  enterprise. 
Elizabeth  made  it  a  subject  of  complaint  against  her  ally,  that 
the  English  soldiers  were  always  thrust  foremost  on  every  occa- 
sion of  danger ;  but  by  themselves  this  perilous  pre-eminence 
was  claimed  as  a  privilege  due  to  the  brilliancy  of  their  valour; 
and  their  leader,  delighted  with  the  spirit  which  they  displayed, 
encouraged  and  rewarded  it  by  distributing  among  his  officers, 
with  a  profusion  which  highly  offended  his  sovereign,  the  honour 
of  knighthood,  bestowed  by  herself  with  so  much  selection  and 
reserve.  Essex  supported  his  character  for  personal  courage, 
and  indulged  his  impetuous  temper,  by  sending  an  idle  chal- 
lenge to  the  governor  of  Rouen,  who  seems  to  have  known  his 
duty  too  well  to  accept  it ;  but  his  sanguine  anticipations  of  some 
distinguished  success  were  baffled  by  a  want  of  correspondence 
between  the  plans  of  Henry  and  the  commands  of  Elizabeth  y 
perhaps  also  in  some  degree  by  his  own  deficiency  in  the  skill  of 
a  general.    He  had  the  further  grief  to  lose  by  a  musket-shot  his 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


397 


only  brother  Walter  Devereux,  a  young  man  of  great  hopes  to 
whom  he  was  fondly  attached  ;  and  leaving  hiu  men  before  Rou- 
en,  under  the  conduct  of  sir  Roger  Williams,  a  brave  soldier,  la: 
returned  with  little  glory  in  the  beginning  of  1592,  to  soothe  the 
displeasure  of  the  queen  and  combat  the  malicious  suggestions 
of  his  enemies.  In  this  bloodless  warfare  better  success  awaited 
him.  His  partial  mistress  received  with  favour  his  excuses  ;  and 
not  only  restored  him  to  her  wonted  grace,  but  soon  after  testi- 
tied  her  opinion  of  his  abilities  by  granting  him  admission  into 
the  privy-council. 

The  royal  progress  of  this  year  in  Sussex  and  Hampshire  af- 
fords some  circumstances  worthy  of  mention.  Viscount  Mon- 
tacute,  (now  written  Montagu,)  a  nobleman  in  much  esteem  with 
Elizabeth,  though  a  zealous  catholic,  solicited  the  honour  of  en- 
tertaining her  at  his  seat  of  Coudray  near  Midhurst ;  a  mansion 
splendid  enough  to  attract  the  curiosity  and  admiration  of  a  royal 
visitant.  The  manor  of  Midhurst,  in  which  Coudray  is  situated, 
had  belonged  during  several  ages  to  a  branch  of  the  potent  fa- 
mily of  Bohun ;  thence  it  passed  into  possession  of  the  Nevils, 
a  race  second  to  none  in  England  in  the  antiquity  of  its  nobility 
and  the  splendour  of  its  alliances.  It  thus  became  a  part  of  the 
vast  inheritance  of  Margaret  countess  of  Salisbury,  daughter  of 
George  duke  of  Clarence.  Coudray-house  was  the  principal 
residence  of  this  illustrious  and  injured  lady,  and  it  was  here 
that  the  discovery  took  place  of  those  papal  bulls  and  emblema- 
tical banners  which  afforded  a  pretext  to  malice  and  rapacity  to 
arm  themselves  against  the  miserable  remnant  of  her  days. 

By  the  attainder  of  the  countess,  this  with  the  rest  of  her  es- 
tates became  forfeited  to  the  crown  :  but  the  tyrant  Henry  was 
prevailed  upon  to  regrant  it,  in  exchange  for  other  lands,  to  the 
heirs  of  her  great  uncle  John  Nevil  marquis  Montagu.  From  an 
heir  female  of  this  branch,  viscount  Montagu,  son  of  sir  Anthony 
Brown  master  of  the  horse  to  Henry  VIII.,  derived  it  and  his 
title,  conferred  by  queen  Mary.  But  to  the  ancient  mansion 
there  had  previously  been  substituted  by  his  half-brother  the 
earl  of  Southampton,  a  costly  structure  decorated  internally  with 
that  profusion  of  homely  art  which  displayed  the  wealth  and  sa- 
tisfied the  taste  of  a  courtier  of  Henry  VIII.  The  building  was 
as  usual  quadrangular,  with  a  great  gate  flanked  by  two  towers  in 
the  centre  of  the  principal  front.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  hall 
stood  a  buck,  as  large  as  life,  carved  in  brown  wood,  bearing  on 
his  shoulder  the  shield  of  England  and  under  it  that  of  Brown 
with  many  quarterings :  ten  other  bucks,  in  various  attitudes 
and  of  the  size  of  life,  were  planted  at  intervals.  There  was  a 
parlour  more  elegantly  adorned  with  the  works  of  Holbein  and 
his  scholars;  — a  chapel  richly  furnished  a  long  gallery  painted 
with  the  twelve  apostles  ; — and  a  corresponding  one  hung  with 
family  pictures  and  with  various  old  paintings  on  subjects  reli- 
gious and  military,  brought  from  Battle  Abbey,  the  spoils  of 
which  had  been  assigned  to  sir  Anthony  Brown  as  that  share  oi 


m 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  general  plunder  of  the  monasteries  to  which  his  long  and 
faithful  service  had  entitled  him  from  the  bounty  of  his  master. 

Amongst  other  particulars  of  the  visit  of  her  majesty  at  Coud- 
ray,  we  are  told  that  on  the  morning  after  her  arrival  she  rode 
in  the  park,  where  "  a  delicate  bower"  was  prepared,  and  a 
nymph  with  a  sweet  song  delivered  her  a  cross  bow  to  shoot  at 
the  deer,  of  which  she  killed  three  or  four,  and  the  countess  of 
Kildare  one : — it  may  be  added  that  this  was  a  kind  of  amuse- 
ment not  unfrequently  shared  by  the  ladies  of  that  age  ;  an  ad- 
ditional trait  of  the  barbarity  of  manners. 

Viscount  Montagu  died  two  years  after  this  visit,  and,  to  com- 
plete his  story,  lies  buried  in  Midhurst  church  under  a  splendid 
monument  of  many-coloured  marbles,  on  which  may  still  be  seen 
a  figure  representing  him  kneeling  before  an  altar,  in  fine  guilt 
armour,  with  a  cloak  and  "beard  of  formal  cut."  Beneath  are 
placed  recumbent  effigies  of  his  two  wives  dressed  in  rich  cloaks 
and  ruffs,  with  chained  unicorns  at  their  feet,  and  the  whole  is 
surrounded  with  sculptured  scutcheons  laboriously  executed 
with  innumerable  quarterings. 

At  Elvetham  in  Hampshire  the  queen  was  sumptuously  enter- 
tained during  a  visit  of  four  days  by  the  earl  of  Hertford.  This 
nobleman  was  reputed  to  be  master  of  more  ready  money  than 
any  other  person  in  the  kingdom ;  and  though  the  cruel  impri- 
sonment of  nine  years,  by  which  Elizabeth  had  doomed  him  to 
expiate  the  offence  of  a  clandestine  union  with  the  blood-royal, 
could  scarcely  have  been  obliterated  from  his  indignant  memory, 
certain  considerations  respecting  the  interests  of  his  children 
might  probably  render  him  not  unwilling  to  gratify  her  by  a 
splendid  act  of  homage,  though  peculiar  circumstances  increas- 
ed beyond  measure  the  expense  and  inconvenience  of  her  pre- 
sent visit.  Elvetham,  which  was  little  more  than  a  hunting- 
seat,  was  far  from  possessing  sufficient  accommodation  for  the 
court,  and  the  earl  was  obliged  to  supply  its  deficiencies  by  very 
extensive  erections  of  timber,  fitted  up  and  furnished  with  all 
the  elegance  that  circumstances  would  permit.  He  likewise 
found  it  necessary  to  cause  a  large  pond  to  be  dug,  in  which 
were  formed  three  islands,  artificially  constructed  in  the  like- 
ness of  a  fort,  a  ship,  and  a  mount,  for  the  exhibition  of  fire- 
works and  other  splendid  pageantries.  The  water  was  made  to 
swarm  with  swimming  and  wading  sea-gods,  who  blew  trumpets 
instead  of  shells,  and  recited  verses  in  praise  of  her  majesty, 
finally,  a  tremendous  battle  was  enacted  between  the  Tritons  of 
the  pond  and  certain  sylvan  deities  of  the  park,  which  was  long 
and  valiantly  disputed,  with  darts  on  one  side  and  large  squirts 
on  the  other,  and  suddenly  terminated,  to  the  delight  of  all  be- 
holders, by  the  seizure  and  submersion  of  old  Sylvanus  himself. 

Elizabeth  quitted  Elvetham  so  highly  gratified  by  the  atten- 
tions of  the  noble  owner,  that  she  made  him  a  voluntary  promise 
of  her  special  favour  and  protection  ;  but  we  shall  find  hereafter,- 
that  her  long-enduring  displeasure  against  him  relative  to  his 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


399 


first  marriage  was  not  yet  so  entirely  laid  aside  but  that  a 
slight  pretext  was  sufficient  to  bring  it  once  more  into  malig- 
nant activity. 

Early  in  the  same  summer  the  queen  had  also  paid  a  visit  to 
Lord  Burleigh  at  his  favourite  seat  in  Hertfordshire,  of  which 
sir  Thomas  Wylks  thus  speaks  in  a  letter  to  sir  Robert  Sidney  : 

"  1  suppose  you  have  heard  of  her  majesty's  great  entertain- 
ment at  Theobalds',  of  her  knighting  Mr.  Robert  Cecil,  and  oi 
the  expectation  of  his  advancement  to  the  secretaryship ;  but 
so  it  is  as  we  say  in  court,  that  the  knighthood  must  serve  for 
both."* 

Sir  Christopher  Hatton  cued  in  the  latter  end  of  the  year 
1591.  It  appears  that  he  had  been  languishing  for  a  conside- 
rable time  under  a  mortal  disease  ;  yet  the  vulgar  appetite  for 
the  wonderful  and  the  tragical  occasioned  it  to  be  reported  that 
he  died  of  a  broken  heart,  in  consequence  of  her  majesty's  having 
demanded  of  him,  with  a  rigour  which  he  had  not  anticipated, 
the  payment  of  certain  moneys  received  by  him  for  tenths  and 
first  fruits  :  it  was  added,  that  struck  with  compunction  on  learn- 
ing to  what  extremity  her  severity  had  reduced  him,  her  ma- 
jesty had  paid  him  several  visits,  and  endeavoured  by  her  gra- 
cious and  soothing  speeches  to  revive  his  failing  spirits  ; — but 
that  the  blow  was  struck,  and  her  repentance  came  too  late.  It 
is  indeed  certain  that  the  queen  manifested  great  interest  in 
the  fate  of  her  chancellor,  and  paid  him  during  his  last  illness 
very  extraordinary  personal  attentions  : — but  it  ought  to  be  men- 
tioned, in  refutation  of  the  former  part  of  the  story,  that  she  re- 
mitted to  his  nephew  and  heir,  who  was  married  to  a  grand 
daughter  of  Burleigh's,  all  her  claims  on  the  property  which  Re- 
left  behind  him. 

During  his  lifetime,  also,  Hatton  seems  to  have  tasted  more 
largely  than  most  of  his  competitors  of  the  solid  fruits  of  royal 
favour.  Elizabeth  persevered  in  the  practice  originating  in  the 
reigns  of  her  father  and  brother,  of  endowing  her  courtiers  out 
of  the  spoils  of  the  church.  Sometimes,  to  the  public  scandal, 
she  would  keep  a  bishopric  many  years  vacant  for  the  sake  of 
appropriating  its  whole  revenues  to  secular  uses  and  persons  ; 
and  still  more  frequently,  the  presentation  to  a  see  was  given 
under  the  condition,  express  or  implied,  that  certain  manors 
should  be  detached  from  its  possessions,  or  beneficial  leases  of 
lands  and  tenements  granted  to  particular  persons.  Thus  the 
bishop  of  Ely  was  required  to  make  a  cession  to  sir  Christopher 
Hatton  of  the  garden  and  orchard  of  Ely-house  near  Holborn  ; 
on  the  refusal  of  the  prelate  to  surrender  property  which  he  re- 
garded himself  as  bound  in  honour  and  conscience  to  transmit 
unimpaired  to  his  successors,  Hatton  instituted  against  him  a 
chancery  suit;  and  having  at  length  succeeded  in  wresting  from 
him  the  land,  made  it  the  site  of  a  splendid  house  surrounded  by 

*  "  Sidney's  Papers. " 


400 


THE  COURT  OF 


gardens,  which  have  been  succeeded  by  the  street  still  bearing 
his  name.    He  had  even  sufficient  interest  with  her  majesty  to 
cause  her  to  address  to  the  bishop  the  following  violent  letter, 
several  times,  with  some  variations,  reprinted. 
"  Proud  prelate  ; 
"  I  understand  you  are  backward  in  complying;  with  your 
agreement ;  but  I  would  have  you  to  know,  that  I  who  made 
you  what  you  are,  can  unmake  you;  and  if  you  do  not  forth 
with  fulfil  your  engagement,  by  God  I  will  immediately  unfrock 
you. 

"  Yours  as  you  demean  yourself, 

"  Elizabeth." 

Sir  John  Harrington,  in  his  Brief  View  of  the  Church  of  Eng 
and,  accuses  the  lord-chancellor  Hatton  of  coveting  likewise 
a  certain  manor  attached  to  the  see  of  Bath  and  Wells,  and  of 
inflaming  the  queen's  indignation  against  Bishop  Godwin  on  ac- 
count of  his  second  marriage,  in  order  to  frighten  him  into  com- 
pliance ;  a  manoeuvre  which  in  part  succeeded,  since  the  bishop 
was  reduced,  by  way  of  compromise,  to  grant  him  a  long  lease  of 
another  manor  somewhat  inferior  in  value. 

With  all  this,  Hatton,  as  we  have  formerly  observed,  was  dis- 
tinguished as  the  patron  of  the  established  church  against  the 
puritans  ;  but  his  zeal  in  its  behalf,  whether  real  or  affected,  was 
attended  by  a  spirit  of  moderation  then  rare  and  always  com- 
mendable. He  disliked,  and  sometimes  checked,  the  oppressions 
exercised  against  the  papists  by  the  rigid  enforcement  of  recent 
statutes  ;  and  he  is  reported  to  have  held  the  doctrine,  at  that 
time  a  novel  one,;that  neither  fire  nor  steel  ought  ever  to  be  em- 
ployed on  a  religious  account. 

The  chancellor,  besides  his  other  merits  and  accomplishments, 
was  a  cultivator  of  the  drama.  In  1568  a  tragedy  was  performed 
before  her  majesty,  and  afterwards  published,  entitled  Tancred 
and  Gismund,  or  Gismonde  of  Salerne,  the  joint  performance  of 
five  students  of  the  Temple,  who  appear  each  to  have  taken  an 
act ;  the  fourth  bears  the  signature  of  Hatton.  It  is  also  probable 
that  he  gave  the  queen  some  assistance  in  similar  pursuits,  as 
her  translation  of  a  part  of  the  tragedy  of  Hercules  (Etseus,  pre- 
served in  the  Bodleian,  is  in  his  hand  writing. 

But  it  was  never  forgotten  by  others,  nor  apparently  by  him- 
self, that  he  was  brought  into  notice  by  his  dancing ;  and  we 
iearn  from  a  contemporary  letter  writer,  that  even  after  he  had 
attained  the  dignity  of  lord  chancellor,  he  laid  aside  his  gown 
to  dance  at  the  wedding  of  his  nephew.  The  circumstance  is 
pleasantly  alluded  to  by  Gray  in  the  description  of  Stoke-Pogei^- 
uouse  with  which  his  "  Long  Story"  opens. 

"  In  Britain's  isle,  no  matter  where, 
An  ancient  pile  of  building  stands  ; 
The  Huntingdons  and  Hattons  there 
Employed  the  power  of  fairy  hands. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


401 


To  raise  the  ceiling's  fretted  height, 
Each  pa  unci  in  achievements  clothing, 
Rich  windows  that  exclude  the  light, 
And  passages  that  lead  to  nothing. 

Full  oft  within  the  spacious  walls, 
When  he  had  fifty  winters  o'er  him, 
My  grave  lord  keeper  led  the  brawls, 
The  seal  and  maces  danced  before  him. 

His  bushy  beard  and  shoe-strings  green, 
His  high-crown'd  hat  and  satin  doublet, 
Moved  the  stout  heart  of  England's  queen, 
Though  pope  and  Spaniard  could  not  trouble  it.'* 

As  chancellor  of  Oxford,  Hatton  was  succeeded  by  lord  Buck 
hurst,  to  the  fresh  mortification  of  Essex,  who  again  advanced 
pretensions  to  this  honorary  oflice,  and  was  a  second  time  baf- 
fled by  her  majesty's  open  interference  in  behalf  of  his  com- 
petitor. 

The  more  important  posts  of  lord  chancellor  remained  vacant 
for  some  months,  the  seals  being  put  in  commission  ;  after  which 
serjeant  Pickering  was  appointed  lord  keeper, — a  person  of  re- 
spectable character,  who  appears  to  have  performed  the  duties  of 
his  office  without  taking  any  conspicuous  part  in  the  court  fac- 
tions, or  exercising  any  marked  influence  over  the  general  ad- 
ministration of  affairs. 

Towards  one  person  of  considerable  note  in  his  day,  sir  John 
Perrot,  some  time  deputy  of  Ireland,  Hatton  is  reported  to  have 
acted  the  part  of  an  industrious  and  contriving  enemy  ;  being 
provoked  by  the  taunts  which  Sir  John  was  continually  throw- 
ing out  against  him  as  one  who  "  had  entered  the  court  in  a 
galliard,"  and  further  instigated  by  the  complaints,  well  or  ill 
founded,  against  the  deputy,  of  some  of  his  particular  friends 
and  adherents. 

Sir  John  Perrot  derived  from  a  considerable  family  of  that 
name  seated  at  Haroldstone  in  Pembrokeshire,  his  name  and 
large  estates ;  but  his  features,  his  figure,  his  air,  and  common 
fame,  gave  him  king  Henry  VIII.  for  a  father.  Nor  was  his  resem- 
blance to  this  redoubted  monarch  merely  external ;  his  temper 
was  haughty  and  violent,  his  behaviour  blustering,  his  language 
always  course,  and,  in  the  fits  of  rage  to  which  he  was  subject, 
abusive  to  excess.  Yet  was  he  destitute  neither  of  merit  nor 
abilities.  As  president  of  Munster,  he  had  rendered  great  ser- 
vices to  her  majesty  in  1572  by  his  vigorous  conduct  against  the 
rebels.  As  lord  deputy  of  Ireland  between  the  years  1584  and 
1588,  he  had  made  efforts  still  more  praiseworthy  towards  the 
pacification  of  that  unhappy  and  ill -governed  country,  by 
checking  as  much  as  possible  the  oppressions  of  every  kind 
exercised  by  the  English  of  the  pale  against  the  miserable  natives' 
towards  whom  his  policy  was  liberal  and  benevolent.    But  his 

3Fi 


4th2 


THE  COURT  OF 


attempts  at  reformation  armed  against  him,  as  usual,  a  host  of 
foes,  amongst  whom  was  particularly  distinguished  Loftus  arch- 
bishop of  Dublin,  whom  he  had  exasperated  by  proposing  to 
apply  the  revenues  of  St.  Patrick's  cathedral  to  the  foundation 
of  an  university  in  the  capital  of  Ireland.  Forged  letters  were 
amongst  the  means  to  which  the  unprincipled  malice  of  his  ad 
versaries  resorted  for  his  destruction.  One  of  these  atrocious 
fabrications,  in  which  an  Irish  chieftain  was  made  to  complain 
of  excessive  injustice  on  the  part  of  the  deputy,  was  detected 
by  the  exertions  of  the  supposed  writer,  whom  Perrot  had  in 
reality  attached  to  himself  by  many  benefits  ;  but  a  second  letter, 
which  contained  a  protection  to  a  catholic  priest  and  made  him 
employ  the  words  our  castle  of  Dublin,  our  kingdom  of  Ireland, 
produced  a  fatally  strong  impression  on  the  jealous  mind  ot 
Elizabeth. 

Meantime  the  ill-fated  deputy,  conscious  of  his  own  fidelity 
and  essential  loyalty,  and  unsuspicious  of  the  snares  spread 
around  him,  was  often  unguarded  enough  to  give  vent  in  gross 
and  furious  invective  against  the  person  of  majesty  itself,  to  the 
profound  vexation  which  he,  in  common  with  all  preceding  and 
following  governors  of  Ireland  under  Elizabeth,  was  destined  to 
endure  from  the  penury  of  her  supplies  and  the  magnitude  of 
her  requisitions.  His  words  were  all  carried  to  the  queen, 
mingled  with  such  artful  insinuations  as  served  to  impart  to 
these  unmeaning  ebullitions  of  a  hasty  temper  the  air  of  delibe 
rate  contempt  and  meditated  disloyalty  towards  his  sovereign. 

Just  before  the  sailing  of  the  armada,  Perrot  was  recalled, 
partly  indeed  at  his  own  request.  A  rigid  or  rather  a  malicious 
inquiry  was  then  instituted  into  all  the  details  of  his  actions, 
words  and  behaviour  in  Ireland,  and  he  was  committed  to  the 
friendly  custody  of  lord  Burleigh.  Afterwards,  the  lords  Huns 
don  and  Buckhurst,  with  two  or  three  other  councillors,  were 
ordered  to  search  and  seize  his  papers  in  the  house  of  the  lord 
treasurer  without  the  participation  of  this  great  minister,  who 
was  at  once  orFended  and  alarmed  at  the  step.  Perrot  was  car- 
ried to  the  Tower,  and  at  length,  in  April  1592,  put  Upon  his 
trial  for  high  treason.  The  principal  heads  of  accusation  were  ; 
— his  contemptuous  words  of  the  queen  ; — his  secret  encourage- 
ment of  O'Rourk's  rebellion  and  the  Spanish  invasion,  and  his 
favouring  of  traitors.  Of  all  these  charges  except  the  first  he 
seems  to  have  proved  his  innocence  and  on  this  he  excused  him- 
self by  the  heat  of  his  temper  and  the  absence  of  all  ill  intention 
from  his  mind.  He  was  howrever  found  guilty  by  a  jury  much 
more  studious  of  the  reputation  of  loyalty  than  careful  of  the 
rights  of  Englishmen. 

On  leaving  the  bar,  he  is  reported  to  have  exclaimed,  "  God's 
death  !  will  the  queen  suffer  her  brother  to  be  oifered  up  as  a  sa- 
crifice to  the  envy  of  my  frisking  adversaries  ?" 

The  queen  felt  the  force  of  this  appeal  to  the  ties  of  blood.  It . 
was  long  before  she  could  be  brought  to  confirm  his  sentence, 
and  she  would  never  sign  a  warrant  for  its  execution.  Burleigh 


QIJKKN  ELIZABETH. 


403 


shed  tears  on  hearing  the  verdict,  saying  with  a  sigh,  that  hatred 
m;is  always  the  more  inveterate  the  less  it  was  deserved. 

Elizabeth,  when  her  first  emotions  of  anger  had  passed  away, 
was  now  frequently  heard  to  praise  that  rescript  of  the  empe- 
ror Theodosius  in  which  it  is  thus  written  : — 

"Should  any  one  have  spoken  evil  of  the  emperor,  if  through 
levity,  it  should  be  despised ;  if  through  insanity,  pitied  ;  if 
though  malice,  forgiven."  She  is  likewise  said  in  language  more 
familiar  to  her,  to  have  sworn  a  great  oath  that  they  who  ac- 
cused Perrot  were  all  knaves,  and  he  an  honest  and  faithful 
man.  It  was  accordingly  presumed  that  she  entertained  the  de- 
sign of  extending  to  him  the  royal  pardon;  but  her  mercy,  if 
such  it  merits  to  be  called,  was  tardy  ;  and  in  September  1592, 
six  months  after  his  condemnation,  this  victim  of  malice,  peris!.- 
ed  in  the  Tower,  of  disease,  according  to  Camden  ;  but,  by  other 
accounts,  of  a  broken  heart.  In  either  case  the  story  is  an  af- 
fecting one,  and  worthy  to  be  had  in  lasting  remembrance,  as  a 
striking  and  terrible  example  of  the  potency  of  court-intrigue, 
and  the  guilty  subserviency  of  judicial  tribunals  under  the  jea- 
lous rule  of  the  last  of  the  Tudors. 

English  literature,  under  the  auspices  of  Elizabeth  and  her 
learned  court,  had  been  advancing  with  a  steady  and  rapid  pro- 
gress ;  and  it  may  be  interesting  to  contemplate  the  state  of  one 
of  its  fairest  provinces  as  exhibited  by  the  pen  of  an  able  critic, 
who  in  the  year  1589  gave  to  the  woild  an  Art  of  English  Poesy. 
This  work,  though  addressed  to  the  queen,  was  published  with 
a  dedication  by  the  printer  to  lord  Burleigh ;  for  the  author 
thought  proper  to  remain  concealed :  on  its  first  appearance  its 
merit  caused  it  to  be  ascribed  to  Spenser  by  some,  and  by  others 
to  Sidney  ;  but  it  was  traced  at  length  to  Puttenham,  one  of  her 
majesty's  gentleman -pensioners,  the  author  of  some  adulatory 
poems  addressed  to  her,  and  called  Partheniads  and  of  various 
other  pieces  now  lost. 

The  subject  is  here  methodically  treated  in  three  books ;  the 
first,  "  Of  Poets  and  Poesy  ;"  the  second,  "  Of  Proportion  the 
third,  "  Of  Ornament.'.'  After  some  remarks  on  the  origin  of  the 
art  and  its  earliest  professors,  and  an  account  of  the  various 
kinds  of  poems  known  to  the  ancients, — in  which  there  is  an 
absence  of  pedantry,  of  quaintness,  and  of  every  species  of  pue- 
rility, very  rare  among  the  didactic  writers  of  the  age, — the  cri- 
tic proceeds  to  an  enumeration  of  our  principal  vernacular 
poets,  or  "  vulgar  makers,"  as  he  is  pleased  to  anglicise  the 
words.  Beginning  with  a  just  tribute  to  Chaucer,  as  the  father 
of  genuine  English  verse,  he  passes  rapidly  to  the  latter  end  of 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  when,  as  he  observes,  there  "sprung 
up  a  new  company  of  courtly  makers,  of  whom  sir  Thomas  Wyat 
the  elder  and  Henry  earl  of  Surry  were  the  two  chieftains  ;  who 
having  travelled  into  Italy,  and  there  tasted  the  sweet  and 
stately  measures  and  style  of  the  Italian  poesy,  as  novices  newly 
crept  out  of  the  schools  of  Dante,  Arioste,  and  Petrarch,  they 
greatly  polished  our  rude  and  homely  manner  of  vulgar  poesy, 


404  THE  COURT  OF 

from  that  it  had  been  before,  and  for  that  cause  may  justly  be 
said  the  first  reformers  of  our  English  metre  and  style."* 

After  slight  notice  of  the  minor  poets  who  flourished  under 
Edward  VI.  and  Mary,  he  goes  on  to  observe  that  "  in  her  ma- 
jesty's time  that  now  is,  are  sprung  up  another  crew  of  courtlv 
maker*,  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  her  majesty's  own  servants, 
who  have  written  excellently  well,  as  it  would  appear  if  their 
doing  could  be  found  out  and  made  public  with  the  rest."  And 
in  a  subsequent  passage  he  thus  awards  to  each  of  them  his  ap- 
propriate commendation.  "  Of  the  latter  sort  [  think  thus  :  That 
for  tragedy  the  lord  Buckhurst  and  master  Edward  Ferry's  (Fer- 
rers,) for  such  doings  as  I  have  seen  of  theirs  do  deserve  the 
highest  price.  The  earl  of  Oxford  and  master  Edwards  of  her 
majesty's  chapel  for  comedy  and  interlude.  For  eglogue  and 
pastoral  poesy,  sir  Philip  Sidney  and  master  Chaloner,  and  that 
other  gentleman  who  wrate  the  late  *  Shepherd's  Calendar.'t 
For  ditty  and  amorous  ode  I  find  sir  Walter  Raleigh's  vein  most 
lofty,  insolent  and  passionate.  Master  Edward  Dyer  for  elegy, 
most  sweet,  solemn  and  of  high  conceit.  Gascoigne  for  a  good 
metre  and  for  a  plentiful  vein.  Phaer  and  Golding  for  a  learned 
and  well  corrected  verse,  specially  in  translation  clear  and  very 
faithfully  answering  their  author's  intent.  Others  have  also 
written  with  much  facility,  but  more  commendably  perchance  if 
they  had  not  written  so  much  nor  so  popularly."^:  The  passage 
concludes  with  a  piece  of  flattery  to  her  majesty  in  her  poetical 
capacity,  unworthy  of  transcription. 

Under  the  head  of  "Poetical  proportion"  or  metre,  our  author 
writes  learnedly  of  the  measures  of  the  ancients,  and  on  those 
employed  by  our  native  poets  with  singular  taste  and  judgment, 
except  that  the  artist-like  pride  in  difficulty  overcome  has  in- 
spired him  with  an  unwarrantable  fondness  for  verses  arranged 
in  eggs,  roundels,  lozenges,  triquets,  and  other  ingenious  figures 
of  which  he  has  given  diagrams  further  illustrated  by  finished 
specimens  of  his  own  construction. 

Great  efforts  had  been  made  about  this  period  by  a  literary 
party,  of  which  Stainhurst  the  translator  of  Virgil,  Sidney,  and 
Gabriel  Hervey  were  the  leaders,  to  introduce  the  Greek  and 
Roman  measures  into  English  verse,  and  Puttenham  has  judged 
it  necessary  to  compose  a  chapter  thus  intituled  :  How,  if  all 
manner  of  sudden  innovations  were  not  very  scandalous,  specially 
in  the  laws  of  any  language  or  art,  the  use  of  Greek  and  Latin 
feet  might  be  brought  into  our  vulgar  poesy,  and  with  good  grace 
enough."  But  it  is  evident  on  the  whole,  that  he  bore  no  good 
will  to  this  pedantic  novelty. 

In  treating  of  "  Ornament,"  our  author  enumerates,  explains, 

*  I  have  quoted  this  passage  partly  for  the  sake  of  the  express  and  authentic 
Testimony  which  it  bears  to  the  fact  of  Surry's  having  visited  Italy,  v/ hi ch  Mr.  Chal- 
mers and  after  him  Dr.  Nott,  in  their  respective  biographies  of  the  noble  poet,  have 
been  induced  to  call  in  question. 

f  Spenser  published  this  work  under  the  signature  of  "Immerito." 

i  Art  of  English  Poesy,  book  i. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


405 


and  exemplifies  all  the  rhetorical  figures  of  the  Greeks  ;  adding, 
for  the  benefit  of  courtiers  and  ladies,  to  whom  his  work  is 
principally  addressed,  translations  of  their  names  ;  several  of 
which  would  require  to  be  retranslated  for  the  benefit  of  the 
modern  reader,  as  for  example  the  three  following,  all  figures  of 
derision  : — "  The  fleering  frump ;'' — "  The  broad  flout ; — "  The 
privy  nip."    At  the  present  day,  however,  the  work  of  Putten 
nam  is  most  of  all  to  be  valued  for  the  remarks  on  language  and 
on  manners,  and  the  contemporary  anecdotes  with  which  it 
abounds,  and  of  which  some  examples  may  be  quoted.  After 
observing  that  "  as  it  hath  been  always  reputed  a  great  fault 
to  use  figurative  speeches  foolishly  and  indiscreetly,  so  it  is 
esteemed  no  less  an  imperfection  in  man's  utterance,  to  have 
none  use  of  figure  at  all,  specially  in  our  writing  and  speeches 
public,  making  them  but  as  our  ordinary  talk,  than  which  nothing 
can  be  more  unsavory  and  far  from  all  civility : — '  I  remember/ 
says  he, '  in  the  first  year  of  queen  Mary's  reign  a  knight  of  York- 
shire was  chosen  speaker  of  the  parliament,  a  good  gentleman 
and  wise,  in  the  affairs  of  his  shire,  and  not  unlearned  in  the 
laws  of  the  realm ;  but  as  well  for  lack  of  some  of  his  teeth  as 
for  want  of  language,  nothing  well  spoken,  which  at  that  time  and 
business  was  most  behoveful  for  him  to  have  been  :  this  man,  after 
he  had  made  his  oration  to  the  queen  ;  which  ye  know  is  of  course 
to  be  done  at  the  first  assembly  of  both  houses  ;  a  bencher  of  the 
Temple,  both  well  learned  and  very  eloquent,  returning  from  the 
parliament  house,  asked  another  gentleman,  his  friend,  how  he 
liked  Mr   Speaker's  oration;  'Marry,'  quoth  the  other,  <me- 
thinks  I  heard  not  a  better  alehouse  tale  told  this  seven  years.' 
 And  though  grave  and  wise  councillors  in  their  consul- 
tations do  not  use  much  superfluous  eloquence,  and  also  in  their 
judicial  hearings  do  much  mislike  all  scholastical  rhetorics ;  yet 
in  such  a  case  ....    if  the  lord  chancellor  of  England  or 
archbishop  of  Canterbury  himself  were  to  speak,  he  ought  to  do 
it  cunningly  and  eloquently,  which  cannot  be  without  the  use  of 
figures:  and  nevertheless  none  impeachment  or  blemish  to  the 
gravity  of  the  persons  or  of  the  cause :  wherein  I  report  me  to 
them  that  knew  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  lord  keeper  of  the  great  seal, 
or  the  now  lord  treasurer  of  England,  and  have  been  conversant 
with  their  speeches  made  in  the  Parliament  house  and  Star- 
chamber.    From  whose  lips  I  have  seen  to  proceed  more  grave 
and  natural  eloquence,  than  from  all  the  orators  of  Oxford  or 
Cambridge ;  but  all  is  as  it  is  handled,  and  maketh  no  matter 
whether  the  same  eloquence  be  natural  to  them  or  artificial 
(though  I  rather  think  natural) ;  yet  were  they  known  to  be 
learned  and  not  unskilful  of  the  art  when  they  were  younger 

men  I  have  come  to  the  lord  keeper  sir  Nicholas 

Bacon,  and  found  him  sitting  in  his  gallery  alone  with  the 
works  of  Quintilian  before  him ;  indeed  he  was  a  most  eloquent 
man,  and  of  rare  learning  and  wisdom  as  ever  I  knew  England 
to  breed ;  and  one  that  joyed  as  much  in  learned  men  and  men 
of  good  wits.''    He  mentions  being  a  by-stander  when  a  doctor 


406 


THE  COURT  OF 


of  civil  law,  "  pleading  in  a  litigious  cause  betwixt  a  man  and 
his  wife,  before  a  great  magistrate,  who  (as  they  can  tell  that 
knew  him)  was  a  man  very  well  learned  and  grave,  but  some- 
what sour  and  of  no  plausible  utterance :  the  gentleman's  chance 
was  to  say :  '  My  lord,  the  simple  woman  is  not  so  much  to 
blame  as  her  leud  abettors,  who  by  violent  persuasions  have  led 
her  into  this  wilfulness.'  Quoth  the  Judge  ;  '  What  need  such 
eloquent  terms  in  this  place  ?'  The  gentleman  replied,  *  Doth 
your  lordship  mislike  the  term  (violent)  ?  and  methinks  I  speak 
it  to  great  purpose ;  for  I  am  sure  she  would  never  have  done  it, 
but  by  force  of  persuasion,'  "  &c. 

Pursuing  the  subject  of  language,  which,  he  says,  "in  our 
maker  or  poet  must  be  heedily  looked  unto  that  it  be  natural,  pure, 
and  the  most  usual  of  all  his  country,"  after  some  other  rules  or 
cautions  he  adds ;  "  Our  maker  therefore  at  these  days  shall  not 
follow  Piers  Plowman,  nor  Gower,  nor  Lydgate,  nor  yet 
Chaucer,  for  their  language  is  now  out  of  use  with  us ;  neither 
shall  he  take  the  terms  of  Northern  men,  such  as  they  use  in 
daily  talk,  whether  they  be  noblemen,  or  gentlemen,  or  of  their 
best  clerks,  all  is  a  matter;  nor  in  effect  any  speech  used  beyond 
the  river  of  Trent,  though  no  man  can  deny  but  that  theirs  is 
the  purer  English  Saxon  at  this  day,  yet  it  is  not  so  courtly  nor 
so  current  as  our  Southern  English  is ;  no  more  is  the  far  Wes- 
tern man's  speech :  ye  shall  therefore  take  the  usual  speech 
of  the  court,  and  that  of  London  and  the  shires  lying  about 
London  within  sixty  miles  and  not  much  above.  I  say  not  this 
but  in  every  shire  of  England  there  be  gentlemen  and  others  that 
speak,  but  specially  write,  as  good  Southern  as  we  of  Middlesex 
or  Surry  do  ;  but  not  the  common  people  of  every  shire,  to  whom 
the  gentlemen  and  also  their  learned  clerks  do  for  the  most 
part  condescend  ;  but  herein  we  are  ruled  by  the  English  dic- 
tionaries and  other  books  written  by  learned  men,  and  there- 
fore it  needeth  none  other  direction  in  that  behalf.  Albeit 
peradventure  some  small  admonition  be  not  impertinent,  for 
Ave  find  in  our  English  writers  many  words  and  speeches 
amendable,  and  ye  shall  see  in  some  many  inkhorn  terms 
so  ill  affected  brought  in  by  men  of  learning,  as  preachers 
and  schoolmasters  ;  and  many  strange  terms  of  other  languages 
by  secretaries  and  merchants  and  travellers,  and  many  dark 
words  and  not  usual  nor  well  sounding,  though  they  be  daily 
spoken  in  court.  Wherefore  great  heed  must  be  taken  by  our 
maker  in  this  point  that  his  choice  be  good."  He  modestly 
expresses  his  apprehensions  that  in  some  of  these  respects  he 
may  himself  be  accounted  a  transgressor,  and  he  subjoins  a  list 
of  the  new,  foreign,  or  unusual  words  employed  by  him  in  this 
tract,  with  his  reasons  for  their  adoption.  Of  this  number  are ; 
scientific,  conduict,  "a  French  word,  but  well  allowed  of  us,  and 
long  since  usual ;  it  sounds  something  more  than  this  word 
(leading)  for  it  is  applied  only  to  the  leading  of  a  captain,  and 
not  as  a  little  boy  should  lead  a  blind  man ;"  idiom,  from  the 
Greek;  significative,  " borrowed  of  the  Latin  and  French,  but 


QlJKKN  KLIZATSKTH. 


407 


10  us  brought  in  first  by  some  noblemen's  secretary,  as  i  think, 
pdi  doth  so  well  serve  the  turn  as  it  could  not  now  be  spared; 
and  many  more  like  usurped  Latin  and  French  words;  as, 
method,  'methodical,  placation,  junction,  assubtiling,  refining, 
compendious,  prolix,  figurative,  inveigle,  a  term  borrowed  of 
our  common  lawyers:  impression,  also  a  new  term,  but  well 
expressing  the  matter,  and  more  than  our  English  word  :" 
penetrate,  penetrable,  indignity  in  the  sense  of  unworthiness,  and 
a  few  more.*  The  whole  enumeration  is  curious,  and  strikingly 
exhibits  the  state  of  language  at  this  epoch,  when  the  rapid  ad- 
vancement of  letters  and  of  all  the  arts  of  social  life  was  creating 
a  daily  want  of  new  terms,  which  writers  in  all  classes  and  in- 
dividuals in  every  walk  of  life  regarded  themselves  as  au- 
thorised to  supply  at  their  own  discretion,  in  any  manner  and 
from  any  sources  most  accessible  to  them,  whether  pure  or 
corrupt,  ancient  or  modern.  The  pedants  of  the  universities, 
and  the  travelled  coxcombs  of  the  court,  had  each  a  neoiogical 
jargon  of  their  own,  unintelligible  to  each  other  and  to  the  people 
at  large ;  on  the  other  hand,  there  were  a  few  persons  of  grave 
professions  and  austere  characters,  who,  like  Cato  the  Censor 
during  a  similar  period  of  accelerated  progress  in  the  Roman 
state,  prided  themselves  on  preserving  in  all  its  unsophisticated 
simplicity  or  primitive  rudeness,  the  tongue  of  their  forefathers. 
The  judicious  Puttenham,  uniting  the  accurac}r  of  scholastic 
learning  with  the  enlargement  of  mind  acquired  by  long  inter- 
course among  foreign  nations,  and  with  the  polish  of  a  courtier, 
places  himself  between  the  contending  parties,  and  with  a  manly 
disdain  of  every  species  of  affectation,  but  especially  that  of 
rusticity  and  barbarism,  avails  himself,  without  scruple  as  without 
excess,  of  the  copiousness  of  other  languages  to  supply  the  re- 
maining deficiencies  of  his  own. 

Several  chapters  of  the  book  "  of  Ornament"  are  devoted  to 
the  discussion  of  the  decent  or  seemly  in  words  and  actions,  and 
prove  the  author  to  have  been  a  nice  observer  of  manners,  as  well 
as  a  refined  critic  of  style.  He  severely  censures  a  certain 
translator  of  Virgil,  who  said  "  that  iEneas  was  fain  to  trudge 
out  of  Troy;  which  term  better  became  to  be  spoken  of  a 
beggar,  or  of  a  rogue,  or  of  a  lackey :"  and  another  who  calls 
the  same  hero  "  by  fate  a  fugitive  and  who  inquires  "What 
moved  Juno  to  tug  so  great  a  captain  ;"  a  word  "  the  most  in- 
decent in  this  case  that  could  have  been  devised,  since  it  is 
derived  from  the  cart,  and  signifies  the  draught  or  pull  of 
the  horses."  The  phrase  "a  prince's  pelf"  is  reprobated,  be- 
cause pelf  means  properly  "  the  scraps  or  shreds  of  taylors  and 
of  skinners."  He  gives  strict  rules  for  the  decorous  behaviour 
of  ambassadors  and  all  who  address  themselves  to  princes,  being 
himself  a  courtier,  and  having  probably  exercised  some  diplo- 
matic function.  "  I  have  seen,"  says  he,  "  foreign  ambassadors 
in  the  queen's  presence  laugh  so  dissolutely  at  some  rare  pas- 
time or  sport  that  hath  been  made  there,  that  nothing  in  the 


*  Art  of  English  Poesy,  book  iii 


408 


THE  COURT  OF 


world  could  have  worse  becomen  them."  With  respect  to  men 
in  other  stations  of  life  he  is  pleased  to  say,  it  is  decent  for  a 
priest  "to  be  sober  and  sad  "a  judge  to  be  incorrupted,  so- 
ltary,  and  unacquainted  with  courtiers  or  courtly  entertain- 
ments .  .  .  without  plait  or  wrinkle,  sour  in  look  and  churlish 
in  speech ;  contrariwise  a  courtly  gentleman  to  be  lofty  and 
curious  in  countenance,  yet  sometimes  a  creeper  and  curry 
favell  with  his  superiours.'*  "  And  in  a  prince  it  is  decent  to 
go  slowly  and  to  inarch  with  leisure  and  with  a  certain  grandity 
rather  than  gravity  ;  as  our  sovereign  lady  and  mistress,  the 
very  image  of  majesty  and  magnificence,  is  accustomed  to  do 
generally,  unless  it  be  when  she  walketh  apace  for  her  pleasure, 
or  to  catch  her  a  heat  in  the  cold  mornings.  Nevertheless  it  is 
not  so  decent  in  a  meaner  person,  as  I  have  discerned  in  some 
counterfeit  ladies  of  the  country,  which  use  it  much  to  their  own 
derision.  This  comeliness  was  wanting  in  queen  Mary,  other- 
wise a  very  good  and  honourable  princess.  And  was  some  ble- 
mish to  the  emperor  Ferdinaudo,  a  most  noble-minded  man,  yet 
so  careless  and  forgetful  of  himself  in  that  behalf,  as  I  have  seen 
him  run  up  a  pair  of  stairs  so  swift  and  nimble  a  pace,  as  almost 
had  not  become  a  very  mean  man,  who  had  not  gone  in  some 
hasty  business." 

Respecting  the  poets  mentioned  by  Puttenham  whose  names 
have  not  already  occurred  in  the  present  work  it  may  be  observed, 
that  excepting  a  few  lines  quoted  by  this  critic,  there  is  nothing 
remaining  of  sir  Edward  Dyer's,  except  which  is  highly  proba- 
ble, he  is  to  be  reckoned  among  the  anonymous  contributors  to 
the  popular  collections  of  that  day.  Of  Gascoigne,  on  the  con- 
trary, enough  is  left  to  exhaust  the  patience  of  any  modern 
reader.  In  his  youth,  neglecting  the  study  of  the  law  for  poetry 
and  pleasure,  he  poured  forth  an  abundance  of  amatory  pieces ; 
some  of  them  sonnets  closely  imitating  the  Italian  ones  in  style 
as  well  as  structure.  Afterwards,  during  a  five-years  service  in 
the  war  of  Flanders,  he  found  leisure  for  much  serious  thought ; 
and  discarding  the  levities  of  his  early  years,  he  composed  by 
way  of  expiation  a  moral  satire  in  blank  verse  called  the  steel 
Glass,  and  several  religious  pieces.  Notwithstanding  however 
this  newly  assumed  seriousness,  he  attended  her  majesty  in  her 
progress  in  the  summer  of  1575,  and  composed  a  large  number 
of  courtly  verses  as  a  contribution  to  "  the  princely  pleasures  of 
Kennelworth."  Gascoigne  died  in  October  1577.  Of  his  minor 
poems  the  following  may  be  cited  as  a  pleasing  specimen. 

THE  LULLABY  OF  A  LOVER. 

Sing  lullaby  as  women  do, 

Wherewith  they  bring  their  babes  to  rest. 

And  lullaby  can  I  sing  too 

As  womanly  as  can  the  best. 

With  lullaby  they  still  the  child  ; 

And  if  I  be  not  much  beguil'd. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


109 


Kull  many  wanton  babes  have  I, 
Which  must  be  still'd  with  lullaby. 

First  lullaby  my  youthful  years, 

It  is  now  time  to  go  to  bed, 

For  crooked  age  and  hoary  years 

Have  won  the  haven  within  my  head : 

With  lullaby  then  youth  be  still, 

With  lullaby  content  thy  will, 

Since  courage  quails  and  comes  behind, 

Go  sleep  and  so  beguile  thy  mind. 

Next  lullaby  my  gazing  eyes, 
Wrhich  wonted  were  to  glaunce  apace  ; 
For  every  glass  may  now  suffice 
To  shew  the  furrows  in  my  face. 
With  lullaby  then  wink  awhile, 
With  lullaby  your  looks  beguile  : 
Let  no  fair  face  or  beauty  bright, 
Entice  you  eft  with  vain  delight. 

And  lullaby  my  wanton  will, 
Let  reason's  rule  now  reign  thy  thought, 
Since  all  too  late  I  find  by  skill, 
How  dear  I  have  thy  fancies  bought: 
With  lullaby  now  take  thine  ease, 
With  lullaby  thy  doubts  appease : 
For  trust  to  this,  if  thou  be  still, 
My  body  shall  obey  thy  will. 

Thus  lullaby  my  youth,  mine  eyes, 
My  will,  my  ware,  and  all  that  was, 
I  can  no  mo  delays  devise, 
But  welcome  pain,  let  pleasure  pass  : 
With  lullaby  now  take  your  leave, 
With  lullaby  your  dreams  deceive, 
And  when  you  rise  with  waking  eye, 
Remember  then  this  lullaby. 

Respecting  another  poet  of  greater  popularity  than  Gascoigne, 
and  of  a  more  original  turn  of  genius,  Warner,  the  author  of 
Albion's  England,  Puttenhain  has  preserved  a  discreet  silence ; 
for  his  great  work  had  been  prohibited  by  the  capricious  tyranny, 
or  rigid  decorum,  of  Archbishop  WThitgift,  and  seizure  made  in 
1586  of  the  copies  surreptitiously  printed.  This  long  and  sin- 
gular poem  is  a  kind  of  metrical  chronicle,  containing  the  re- 
markable events  of  English  history  from  the  flood, — the  starting 
point  of  all  chroniclers, — to  the  reign  of  queen  Elizabeth.  It  is 
written  in  the  common  ballad  measure,  and  in  a  style  often 
creeping  and  prosaic,  sometimes  quaint  and  affected  ;  but  pas- 
sages ot  beautiful  simplicity  and  strokes  of  genuine  pathos  fre- 


410 


THE  COURT  OF 


quently  occur  to  redeem  its  faults,  and  the  tediousness  of  the 
historical  narration  is  relieved  by  a  large  intermixture  of  inter- 
esting and  entertaining  episodes.  The  ballads  of  Queen  Eleanor 
and  fair  Rosamond,  Argentile  and  Curan,  and  the  patient 
Countess,  selected  by  Dr.  Percy  in  his  Relics  of  Ancient  Poe- 
try, may  be  regarded  by  the  poetical  student  of  the  present  day 
as  sufficient  specimen  of  the  talents  of  Warner:  but  in  his  own 
time  he  was  complimented  as  the  Homer  or  Virgil  of  the  age ; 
the  persevering  reader  travelled,  not  only  with  patience  but  de- 
light, through  his  seventy-seven  long  chapters ;  and  it  is  said 
that  the  work  became  popular  enough,  notwithstanding  its  pro- 
hibition by  authority,  to  supersede  in  some  degree  its  celebrated 
predecessor  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

from  1591  to  1593. 

Naval  war  against  Spain. — Death  of  sir  Richard  Grenville. — 
Notice  of  Cavendish. — Establishment  of  the  East  India  com- 
pany.— Results  of  voyages  of  discovery. — Transactions  between 
Raleigh  and  the  queen. — Anecdotes  of  Robert  Cary — of  the 
Holies  family. — Progress  of  the  drama. — Dramatic  poets  be- 
fore Shakespeare. — Notice  of  Shakespeare. — Proclamation  re- 
specting bear-baiting  and  acting  of  plays. — Censor  hip  of  the 
drama. — Anecdote  of  the  queen  and  Tarleton. 

The  maratime  war  with  Spain,  notwithstanding  the  cautious 
temper  of  the  queen,  was  strenuously  waged  during  the  year 
1591,  and  produced  some  striking  indications  of  the  rising  spirit 
of  the  English  navy. 

A  squadron  under  lord  Thomas  Howard,  which  had  been  wait- 
ing six  months  at  the  Azores  to  intercept  the  homeward  bound 
ships  from  Spanish  America,  was  there  surprised  by  a  vastly 
more  numerous  fleet  of  the  enemy  which  had  been  sent  out  for 
their  convoy.  The  English  admiral  got  to  sea  in  all  haste  and 
made  good  his  retreat,  followed  by  his  whole  squadron  excepting 
the  Revenge,  which  was  entangled  in  a  narrow  channel  between 
the  port  and  an  island.  Sir  Richard  Grenville,  her  commander, 
after  a  vain  attempt  to  break  through  the  Spanish  line,  determi- 
ned, with  a  kind  of  heroic  desperation,  to  sustain  alone  the  con- 
flict with  a  whole  fleet  of  fifty-seven  sail,  and  to  confront  all  ex- 
tremities rather  than  strike  his  colours.  From  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  till  day -break  he  resisted,  by  almost  incredible  ef- 
forts of  valour,  all  the  force  which  could  be  brought  to  bear 
against  him,  and  fifteen  times  beat  back  the  boarding  parties  from 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


411 


his  dork.  At  length,  when  all  his  bravest  had  fallen,  and  he 
himself  was  disabled  by  many  wounds ;  his  powder  also  being 
exhausted,  his  .small  arms  lost  or  broken,  and  his  ship  a  perfect 
wreck,  he  proposed  to  his  gallant  crew  to  sink  her,  that  no  tro- 
phy might  remain  to  the  enemy-  But  this  proposal,  though  ap- 
plauded by  several,  w  as  overruled  by  the  majority  :  the  Revenge 
struck  to  the  Spaniards  ;  and  two  days  after,  her  brave  comman- 
der died  on  board  their  admiral's  ship  of  his  glorious  wounds, 
"  with  a  joyful  and  <juiet  mind,"  as  he  expressed  himself,  and 
admired  by  his  enemies  themselves  for  his  high  spirit  and  invin- 
cible resolution.  ri  his  was  the  first  English  ship  of  any  consi- 
derable size  captured  by  the  Spaniards  during  the  whole  war, 
and  it  did  them  little  good  ;  for,  besides  that  the  vessel  had 
been  shattered  to  pieces,  and  sunk  a  few  days  after  with  two 
hundred  Spanish  sailors  on  board,  the  example  of  heroic  self- 
devotion  set  by  sir  Richard  Grenville  long  continued  in  the  hour 
of  battle  to  strike  awe  and  terror  to  their  hearts. 

Thomas  Cavendish,  elated  by  the  splendid  success  of  that 
first  expedition  in  which,  with  three  slender  barks  of  insignifi- 
cant size  carrying  only  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  persons 
of  every  degree,  he  had  plundered  the  whole  coast  of  New  Spain 
and  Peru,  burned  Paita  and  Acapulco,  and  captured  a  Spanish 
admiral  of  seven  hundred  tons,  besides  many  other  vessels  taken 
or  burned  ; — then  crossed  the  great  South  Sea,  and  circumnavi- 
gated the  globe  in  the  shortest  time  in  which  that  exploit  had  yet 
been  performed;  set  sail  again  in  August  1591  on  a  second  voyage. 
But  this  time,  when  his  far  greater  force  and  more  adequate  pre- 
parations  of  every  kind  seemed  to  promise  results  still  more  pro- 
fitable and  glorious,  scarce  any  thing  but  disasters  awaited  him, 
He  took  indeed  the  town  of  Santos  in  Brazil,  which  was  an  ac- 
quisition of  some  importance  ;  but  delaying  here  too  long,  he 
arrived  at  a  wrong  season  in  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  and  was 
compelle ,«  to  endure  the  winter  of  that  inhospitable  clime,  where 
seeing  his  numbers  thinned  by  sickness  and  hardship,  and  his 
plans  baffled  by  dissentions  and  insubordination,  he  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  abandon  his  original  design  of  crossing  the  South  Sea, 
and  resolved  to  undertake  the  voyage  to  China  by  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope.  First,  however,  he  was  fatally  prevailed  upon  to 
return  to  the  coast  of  Brazil,  where  he  lost  many  men  in  rash 
attempts  against  various  towns,  which  expecting  his  attacks  were 
now  armed  for  their  defence,  and  a  still  greater  number  by  de- 
sertion. Baffled  in  all  his  designs,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  anxie- 
ties, and  chagrin,  this  brave  but  unfortunate  adventurer  breathed 
his  last  far  from  England  on  the  wide  ocean,  and  so  obscurely 
that  even  the  date  of  his  death  is  unknown. 

At  this  period,  a  peculiar  education  was  regarded  as  not  more 
necessary  to  enable  a  gentleman  to  assume  the  direction  of  a 
naval  expedition  than  the  command  of  a  troop  of  horse  ;  and  it 
is  probable  that  even  by  Cavendish,  whose  exploits  we  read  with 
amazement,  but  a  very  slender  stock  of  maritime  experience 
was  possessed  when  he  first  embarked  on  board  the  vessel  in 


412 


THE  COURT  OF 


which  he  had  undertaken  to  circumnavigate  the  globe.  He  was 
the  third  son  of  a  Suffolk  gentleman  of  large  estate  ;  came  early 
to  court ;  and  having  there  consumed  his  patrimony  in  the  fash- 
ionable magnificence  of  the  time,  suddenly  discovered  within 
himself  sufficient  courage  to  attempt  the  reparation  of  his  broken 
fortunes  by  that  favourite  resource,  the  plunder  of  the  Spanish 
settlements.  On  his  return  from  his  first  voyage  he  sailed  up 
the  Thames  in  a  kind  of  triumph,  displaying  a  top-sail  of  cloth 
of  gold,  and  making  ostentation  of  the  profit  rather  than  the  glory 
of  the  enterprise.  He  appears  to  have  been  equally  deficient  in 
the  enlightened  pi  udence  which  makes  an  essential  feature  of 
the  great  commander,  and  in  that  lofty  disinterestedness  of  mo- 
tive which  constitutes  the  hero  ;  but  in  the  activity,  the  enter- 
prise, the  brilliant  valour,  which  now  form  the  spirit  of  the  Eng- 
lish navy,  he  had  few  equals  and  especially  few  predecessors  ; 
and  amongst  the  founders  of  its  glory  the  name  of  Cavendish  is 
therefore  worthy  of  a  conspicuous  and  enduring  place. 

By  the  failure  of  the  late  attempt  to  seat  don  Antonio  on  the 
throne  of  Portugal,  the  sovereignty  of  Philip  II.  over  that  coun- 
try and  its  dependencies  had  finally  been  established  ;  and  in 
consequence  its  trade  and  settlements  in  the  East,  offered  a  fair 
and  tempting  prize  to  the  ambition  or  cupidity  of  English  adven 
turers. 

The  passage  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  repeatedly  accom- 
plished by  circumnavigators  of  this  nation,  had  now  ceased  t© 
oppose  any  formidable  obstacle  to  the  spirit  of  maritime  enter- 
prise ;  and  the  papal  donation  was  a  bulwark  still  less  capable 
of  preserving  inviolate  to  the  sovereigns  of  Portugal  their  own 
rich  Indies.  The  first  expedition  ever  fitted  out  from  England 
for  those  eastern  regions,  where  it  now  possesses  an  extent  of 
territory  in  comparison  of  which  itself  is  but  a  petty  province, 
consisted  of  three  "  tall  ships,"  which  sailed  in  this  year  under 
the  conduct  of  George  Raymond  and  James  Lancaster.  After 
doubling  the  Cape  and  refreshing  themselves  in  Saldanha  Bay, 
which  the  Portuguese  had  named  but  not  yet  settled,  the  navi- 
gators steered  along  the  eastern  coast  of  Africa,  where  the  ship 
commanded  by  Raymond  was  lost.  With  the  other  two  how 
ever,  they  proceeded  still  eastward;  passed  without  impediment 
all  the  stations  of  the  Portuguese  on  the  shores  of  the  Indian 
ocean,  doubled  Cape  Comorin,  and  extended  their  voyage  to  the 
Nicobar  isles,  and  even  to  the  peninsula  of  Malacca.  They 
landed  in  several  parts,  where  they  found  means  to  open  an  ad 
vantageous  traffic  with  the  natives  ;  and,  after  capturing  many 
Portuguese  vessels  laden  with  various  kinds  of  merchandise,  re- 
passed the  Cape  in  perfect  safety  with  all  their  booty.  In  their 
way  home  they  visited  the  West  Indies,  where  great  disasters 
overtook  them  ;  for  here  their  two  revnaining  ships  were  lost,  and 
Lancaster,  with  the  slender  remnant  of  their  crews,  was  glad  to 
obtain  a  passage  to  Europe  on  board  a  French  ship  which  hap- 
pily arrived  to  their  relief.  But  as  far  as  respected  the  eastern 
part  of  the  expedition,  their  success  had  been  such  as  strongly 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


413 


to  invite  the  attempts  of  future  adventurers  ;  and  nine  years  after 
its  sailing  her  majesty  was  prevailed  upon  to  grant  a  charter  of 
incorporation  with  ample  privileges  to  an  East  India  company, 
under  whose  auspices  Lancaster  consented  to  undertake  a  se- 
cond voyage.  Annual  fleets  were  from  this  period  fitted  out  by 
these  enterprising  traders,  and  factories  of  their  establishment 
soon  arose  in  Surat,  in  Masulipatam,  in  Bantam,  in  Siam,  and 
even  in  Japan.  The  history  of  their  progress  makes  no  part  of 
the  subject  of  the  present  work  ;  but  the  foundation  of  a  mer- 
cantile company  which  has  advanced  itself  to  power  and  import- 
ance absolutely  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  the  world,  forms  a 
feature  not  to  be  overlooked  in  the  glory  of  Elizabeth. 

These  long  and  hazardous  voyages  of  discovery,  of  hostility, 
or  of  commerce,  began  henceforth  to  afford  one  of  the  most  ho- 
nourable occupations  to  those  among  the  youthful  nobility  or  gen- 
try of  the  country,  whose  active  spirits  disdained  the  luxurious 
and  servile  idleness  of  the  court:  they  also  opened  a  welcome 
resource  to  younger  sons,  and  younger  brothers,  impatient  to 
emancipate  themselves  from  the  galling  miseries  of  that  neces- 
sitous dependence  on  the  head  of  their  house  to  which  the  cus- 
toms of  the  age  and  country  relentlessly  condemned  them. 

Thus  Shakespeare  in  his  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona, 

 "He  wondered  that  your  lordship 

Would  suffer  him  to  spend  his  youth  at  home, 

While  other  men  of  slender  reputation 

Put  forth  their  sons  to  seek  preferment  out : 

Some  to  the  wars  to  try  their  fortune  there  ; 

Some  to  discover  islands  far  away  ; 

Some  to  the  studious  universities. 

For  any  or  for  all  these  exercises, 

He  said,  that  Protheus  your  son  was  meet : 

And  did  request  me  to  importune  you 

To  let  him  spend  his  time  no  more  at  home  ; 

Which  would  be  great  impeachment  to  his  age, 

In  having  known  no  travel  in  his  youth." 

But  the  advancement  of  the  fortunes  of  individuals  was  by  no 
means  the  principal  or  most  permanent  good  which  accrued  to 
the  nation  by  these  enterprises.  The  period  was  still  indeed  far 
distan'  in  which  voyages  of  discovery  were  to  be  undertaken  on 
scientiric  principles  and  with  large  views  of  general  utility:  but 
new  animals,  new  vegetables,  natural  productions  or  manufac- 
tured articles  before  unknown  to  them,  attracted  the  attention 
even  of  these  first  unskilful  explorers.  Specimens  in  every  kind 
were  brought  home,  and,  recommended  as  they  never  failed  to  be 
by  fabulous  or  grossly  exaggerated  descriptions,  in  the  first  in- 
stance only  served  to  gratify  and  inflame  the  vulgar  passion  for 
wonders.  But  the  attention  excited  to  these  striking  novelties 
gradually  became  enlightened  ;  a  more  familiar  acquaintance 


414 


THE  COURT  OF 


disclosed  their  genuine  properties,  and  the  purposes  to  which 
they  might  be  applied  at  home  ; — Raleigh  introduced  the  po- 
tatoe  on  his  Irish  estates  ; — a'n  acceptable,  however  inelegant, 
luxury  was  discovered  in  the  use  of  tobacco ;  and  somewhat  later, 
the  introduction  of  tea  gradually  brought  sobriety  and  refine- 
ment into  the  system  of  modern  English  manners. 

Many  allusions  to  the  prevailing  passion  for  beholding  foreign, 
or,  as  they  were  then  accounted,  monstrous  animals,  may  be 
found  scattered  over  the  works  of  Shakespeare  and  contempo- 
rary dramatists.  Trinculo  says,  speaking  of  Caliban,  "  Were 
I  but  in  England  now  ....  and  had  but  this  fish  painted,  not  a 
holiday  fool  there  but  would  give  a  piece  of  silver.  There 
would  this  monster  make  a  man  ;  any  strange  beast  there  makes  a 
man  :  when  they  will  not  give  a  doit  to  relieve  a  lame  beggar,  they 
will  lay  out  ten  to  see  a  dead  Indian."  And  again  ;  "  Do  you 
put  tricks  upon's  with  savages  and  men  of  Inde  ?"  &c.  The 
whole  play  of  the  Tempest,  exquisite  as  it  is,  must  have  derived 
a  still  more  poignant  relish,  to  the  taste  of  that  age,  from  the  ro- 
mantic ideas  of  desert  islands  then  floating  in  the  imaginations 
of  men. 

In  the  following  year,  1592,  Raleigh,  weary  of  his  Irish  exile, 
and  anxious  by  some  splendid  exploit  to  revive  the  declining  fa- 
vour of  the  queen,  projected  a  formidable  attack  on  the  Spanish 
power  in  America,  and  engaged  without  difficulty  in  the  enter- 
prise a  large  number  of  volunteers.  But  unavoidable  obstacles 
arose,  by  which  the  fleet  was  detained  till  the  proper  season  for 
its  sailing  was  past :  Elizabeth  recalled  Raleigh  to  court  ;  and 
the  only  fortunate  result  of  the  expedition,  to  the  command 
of  which  Martin  Frobisher  succeeded,  was  the  capture  of  one 
wealthy  carrack  and  the  destruction  of  another. 

Raleigh,  in  the  meantime,  was  amusing  his  involuntary  idle- 
ness by  an  intrigue  with  one  of  her  majesty's  maids  of  honour,  a 
daughter  of  the  celebrated  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton.  The 
queen  in  the  heat  of  her  indignation  at  the  scandal  brought  upon 
her  court  by  the  consequences  of  this  amour,  resorted,  as  in  a 
thousand  other  cases,  to  a  vigour  beyond  the  laws  ;  and  though 
sir  Walter  offered  immediately  to  make  the  lady  the  best  repa- 
ration in  his  power,  by  marrying  her,  which  he  afterwards  per- 
formed, Elizabeth  unfeelingly  published  her  shame  to  the  whole 
world  by  sending  both  culprits  to  the  Tower. 

Sir  Walter  remained  a  prisoner  during  several  months.  Mean- 
while  his  ships  returned  from  their  cruise,  and  the  profits  from 
the  sale  of  the  captured  carrack  were  to  be  divided  among  the 
queen,  the  admiral,  the  sailors,  and  the  several  contributors  to 
the  outfit.  Disputes  arose  ;  her  majesty  was  dissatisfied  with 
the  share  allotted  her ;  and  taking  advantage  of  the  situation  into 
which  her  own  despotic  violence  had  thrown  Raleigh,  she  ap- 
pears to  have  compelled  him  to  buy  his  liberty,  and  the  un- 
disturbed enjoyment  of  all  that  he  held  under  her,  by  the  sacri- 
fice of  no  less  than  eighty  thousand  pounds  due  to  him  as  admi- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


415 


ral.  Such  was  the  disinterested  purity  of  that  zeal  for  morals 
of  which  Elizabeth  judged  it  incumbent  on  her  to  make  pro- 
fession ! 

It  may  be  curious  to  learn,  from  another  incident  which  oc- 
curred about  the  same  time,  at  what  rate  her  majesty  caused  her 
forgiveness  of  law  ful  matrimony  to  be  purchased. 

Robert  Cary,  third  son  pf  lord  Hunsdon,  created  lord  Lep- 
pington  by  James  L  and  earl  of  Monmouth  by  his  successor, — 
from  whose  memoirs  of  himself  the  following  particulars  are  de- 
rived,— was  at  this  time  a  young  man  and  an  assiduous  attendant 
on  the  court  of  his  illustrious  kinswoman.  Being  a  younger  son, 
he  had  no  patrimony  either  in  possession  or  reversion  ;  he  re- 
ceived from  the  exchequer  only  one  hundred  pounds  per  annum 
during  pleasure,  and  by  the  style  of  life  which  he  found  it  ne- 
cessary to  support,  had  incurred  a  debt  of  a  thousa  id  pounds. 
In  tins  situation  he  married  a  widow  possessed  of  five  hundred 
pounds  per  annum  and  some  ready  money.  His  father  evinced 
no  displeasure  on  the  occasion ;  but  his  other  friends,  and  espe- 
cially the  queen,  were  so  much  offended  at  the  match,  that  he 
took  his  wife  to  Carlisle  and  remained  there  without  approaching 
the  court  till  the  next  year.  Being  then  obliged  to  visit  London 
on  business,  his  father  suggested  the  expediency  of  his  paying 
the  queen  the  compliment  of  appearing  on  her  day.  Accordingly, 
he  secretly  prepared  caparisons  and  a  present  for  her  majesty, 
at  the  cost  of  more  than  four  hundred  pounds,  and  presented 
himself  in  the  tilt-yard  in  the  character  of  "  a  forsaken  knight 
who  had  vowed  solitariness."  The  festival  over,  he  made  him- 
self known  to  his  friends  in  court ;  but  the  queen,  though  she 
had  received  his  gift,  would  not  take  notice  of  his  presence. 

It  happened  soon  after,  that  the  king  of  Scots  sent  to  Cary's 
elder  brother,  then  marshal  of  Berwick,  to  beg  that  he  would 
wait  upon  him  to  receive  a  secret  message  which  he  wanted  to 
transmit  to  the  queen.  The  marshal  wrote  to  his  father  to  in- 
quire her  majesty's  pleasure  in  the  matter  She  did  not  choose 
that  he  should  stir  out  of  Berwick;  but  "knowing,  though  she 
would  not  know  it,"  that  Robert  Cary  was  in  court,  she  said  at 
length  to  lord  Hunsdon,  "  I  hear  your  fine  son  that  has  married 
lately  so  worthily  is  hereabouts  ;  send  him  if  you  will  to  know 
the  king's  pleasure."  His  lordship  answered,  that  he  knew  he 
would  be  happy  to  obey  her  commands.  "  No,"  said  she,  "do 
you  bid  him  go,  for  i  have  nothing  to  do  with  him."  Robert 
Cary  thought  it  hard  to  be  sent  off  without  first  seeing  the 
queen ;  "  Sir,"  said  he  to  His  father,  who  urged  his  going,  "  if 
she  be  on  such  hard  terms  with  me,  I  had  need  be  wary  what  I 
do  If  I  go  to  the  king  without  her  license,  it  were  in  her 
power  to  hang  me  at  my  return,  and  that,  for  any  thing  I  see,  it 
were  ill  trusting  her."  Lord  Hunsdon  "  merrily"  told  the  queen 
what  he  said.  "  If  the  gentleman  be  so  distrustful,"  she  answer- 
ed, "  let  the  secretary  make  a  safe-conduct  to  go  and  come,  and^ 
I  will  sign  it."  On  his  return  with  letters  from  James,  Robert 
Cary  hastened  to  court,  and  entered  the  presence-chamber 


416 


THE  COURT  OF 


splashed  and  dirty  as  he  was ;  but  not  finding  the  queen  there ; 
lord  Hunsdon  went  to  her  to  announce  his  son's  arrival.  She 
desired  him  to  receive  the  letter,  or  message,  and  bring  it  to  her. 
But  the  young  gentleman  knew  the  court  and  the  queen  too  well 
to  consent  to  give  up  his  dispatches  even  to  his  father;  he  in- 
sisted on  delivering  them  himself,  and  at  length,  with  much  dif 
ficulty  gained  admission. 

The  first  encounter  was,  as  he  expresses  it,  "  stormy  and  ter- 
rible," which  he  passed  over  with  silence  ;  but  when  the  queen 
had  "  said  her  pleasure"  of  himself  and  his  wife,  he  made  her  a 
courtly  excuse  ;  with  which  she  was  so  well  appeased,  that  she 
at  length  assured  him  all  was  forgiven  and  forgotten,  and  re- 
ceived him  into  her  wonted  favour.  After  this  happy  conclusion 
of  an  adventure  so  perilous  to  a  courtier  of  Elizabeth,  Cary  re- 
turned to  Carlisle  ;  and  his  father's  death  soon  occuring,  he  had 
orders  to  take  upon  himself  the  government  of  Berwick  till  fur- 
ther orders.  In  this  situation  he  remained  a  year  without  salary  ; 
impairing  much  his  small  estate,  and  unable  to  obtain  from  court 
either  an  allowance,  or  leave  of  absence  to  enable  him  to  solicit 
one  in  person.  At  length,  necessity  rendering  him  bold,  he  re- 
solved to  hazard  the  step  of  going  up  without  permission.  On 
his  arrival,  however,  neither  secretary  Cecil  nor  even  his  own 
brother  would  venture  to  introduce  him  to  the  queen's  presence, 
but  advised  him  to  hasten  back  before  his  absence  sliould  be 
known,  for  fear  of  her  anger.  At  last,  as  he  stood  sorrowfully 
pondering  on  his  case,  a  gentleman  of  the  chamber,  touched  with 
pity,  undertook  to  mention  his  arrival  to  her  majesty  in  a  way 
which  should  not  displease  her  :  and  he  opened  the  case  by  tell- 
ing her,  that  she  was  more  beholden  to  the  love  and  service  of 
one  man  than  of  many  whom  she  favoured  more.  This  excited 
her  curiosity  ;  and  on  her  asking  who  this  person  might  be,  he 
answered  that  it  was  Robert  Cary,  who,  unable  longer  to  bear 
his  absence  from  her  sight,  had  posted  up  to  kiss  her  hand  and 
instantly  return.  She  sent  for  him  directly,  received  him  with 
greater  favour  than  ever,  allowed  him  after  the  interview  to 
lead  her  out  by  the  hand,  which  seamed  to  his  brother  and  the 
secretary  nothing  less  than  a  miracle  ;  and  what  was  more  grant- 
ed him  five  hundred  pounds  immediately,  a  patent  of  the  ward- 
enry  of  the  east  marches,  and  a  renewal  of  his  grant  of  Norham- 
castle.  It  was  this  able  courtier,  rather  than  grateful  kinsman, 
who  earned  the  good  graces  of  king  James  by  being  the  first  to 
bring  him  the  welcome  tidings  of  the  decease  of  Elizabeth. 

Incidental  mention  has  already  been  made  of  sic  William 
Holies  of  Haughton  in  Nottinghanshire,  the  gentleman  who  re- 
fused to  marry  his  daughter  to  the  earl  of  Cumberland,  because 
he  did  not  choose  "  to  stand  cap  in  hand"  to  his  son-in-law : 
this  worthy  knight  died  at  a  great  age  in  the  year  1590  ;  and  a 
few  further  particulars  respecting  him  and  his  descendants  may 
deserve  record,  on  account  of  the  strong  light  which  they  reflect 
on  several  points  of  manners.  Sir  William  was  distinguished, 
perhaps  beyond  any  other  person  of  the  same  rank  in  the  king- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


417 


Join,  tor  boundless  hospitality  ami  a  magnificent  style  ofliving. 
11  Me  began  l\is  Christmas,"  says  the  historian  of  the  family,  "at 
Ulhallowtide  and  continued  it  until  Candlemas;  during  which 
any  man  was  permitted  to  stay  three  days,  without  being  asked 
whence  he  came  or  what  he  was."  For  each  of  the  twelve  days 
of  Christmas  he  allowed  a  fat  ox  and  other  provisions  in  propor- 
tion. He  would  never  dine  till  after  one  o'clock;  and  being 
asked  why  he  preferred  so  unusually  late  an  hour,  he  answered, 
that  "  for  aught  he  kttew  there  might  a  friend  come  twenty 
miles  to  dine  with  him,  and  he  would  be  loth  he  should  lose  his 
labour.'' 

At  the  coronation  of  Edward  VI.  he  appeared  with  fifty  fol- 
lowers in  blue  coats  and  badges, — then  the  ordinary  costume  of 
retainers  and  serving  men, — and  he  never  went  to  the  sessions 
at  Retford,  though  only  four  miles  from  his  own  mansion,  with- 
out thirty  "  proper  fellows"  at  his  heels.  What  was  then  rare 
among  the  greatest  subjects,  he  kept  a  company  of  actors,  of  his 
own  to  perform  plays  and  masques  at  festival  times  ;  in  summer 
they  travelled  about  the  country. 

This  sir  William  was  succeeded  in  his  estates  by  sir  John 
Holies  his  grandson,  who  was  one  of  the  band  of  gentlemen  pen- 
sioners to  Elizabeth,  and  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  purchased  the 
title  of  earl  of  Clare.  His  grandfather  had  engaged  his  hand  to 
a  kinswoman  of  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury ;  but  the  young  man  de- 
clining to  complete  this  contract,  and  taking  to  wife  a  daughter 
of  sir  Thomas  Stanhope,  the  consequence  was  a  long  and  in- 
veterate feud  between  the  houses  of  Holies  and  of  Talbot,  which 
was  productive  of  several  remarkable  incidents.  Its  first  effect 
was  a  duel  between  Orme,  a  servant  of  Holies,  and  Pudsey,  mas- 
ter of  horse  to  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  in  which  the  latter  was 
slain.  The  earl  prosecuted  Orme,  and  sought  to  take  away  his 
life ;  but  sir  John  Holies  in  the  first  instance  caused  him  to  be 
conveyed  away  to  Ireland,  and  afterwards  obtained  his  pardon 
of  the  queen.  For  his  conduct  in  this  business,  he  was  himself 
challenged  by  Gervase  Markham,  champion  and  gallant  to  the 
countess  of  Shrewsbury  ;  but  he  refused  the  duel,  because  the 
unreasonable  demand  of  Markham,  that  it  should  take  place  in  a 
park  belonging  to  the  earl  his  enemy,  gave  him  just  ground  to 
apprehend  that  some  treachery  was  meditated.  Anxious  how- 
ever to  wipe  a#ay  the  aspersions  which  his  adversary  had  taken 
occasion  to  cast  upon  his  courage,  he  sought  a  renconter  which 
might  wear  the  appearance  of  accident ;  and  soon  after  having 
met  Markham  on  the  road,  they  immediately  dismounted  and 
attacked  each  other  with  their  rapiers ;  Markham  fell,  severely 
wounded,  and  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  lost  no  time  in  raising  his 
servants  and  tenantry  to  the  number  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
in  order  to  apprehend  Holies  in  case  Markham's  hurt  should 
prove  mortal.  On  the  other  side  lord  Sheffield,  the  kinsman  of 
Holies,  joined  him  with  sixty  men.  "  I  hear,  cousin,"  said  he  on 
his  arrival,  "that  my  lord  of  Shrewsbury  is  prepared  to  trouble 
you  ;  but  take  my  word,  before  he  carry  you  it  shall  cost  manv 

3  G 


418 


THE  COURT  OF 


a  broken  pate  ;"  and  he  and  his  company  remained  at  Haughtoii 
till  the  wounded  man  was  out  of  danger.  Markham  had  vowed 
never  to  eat  supper  or  take  the  sacrament  till  he  was  revenged, 
and  in  consequence  found  himself  obliged  to  abstain  from  both 
to  the  day  of  his  death.*  What  appears  the  most  extraordinary 
part  of  the  story  is,  that  we  do  not  find  the  queen  and  council 
interfering  to  put  a  stop  to  this  private  war,  worthy  of  the  bar- 
barism of  the  feudal  ages.  Gervase  Markham,  who  was  the  por- 
tionless younger  son  of  a  Nottinghamshire  gentleman  of  ancient 
family,  became  the  most  voluminous  miscellaneous  writer  of  his 
age,  using  his  pen  apparently  as  his  chief  means  of  subsistence. 
He  wrote  on  a  vast  variety  of  subjects,  and  both  in  verse  and 
prriste;  but  his  works  on  farriery  and  husbandry  appear  to  have 
been  the  most  useful,  and  those  on  field  sports  the  most  enter- 
taining of  his  performances. 

The  progress  of  the  drama  is  a  subject  which  claims  in  this 
place  some  share  of  our  attention,  partly  because  it  excited  in  a 
variety  of  ways  that  of  Elizabeth  herself.  By  the  appearance  of 
Ferrex  and  Porrex  in  1561,  and  that  of  Gammer  Gurton's  Nee- 
dle five  years  later,  a  new  impulse  had  been  given  to  English 
gei  ins  ;  and  both  tragedies  and  comedies  approaching  the  regular 
models,  besides  historical  and  pastoral  dramas,  allegorical  pieces 
resembling  the  old  moralities,  and  translations  from  the  ancients, 
were  from  this  time  produced  in  abundance,  and  received  by  all 
classes  with  avidity  and  delight. 

About  twenty  dramatic  poets  flourished  between  1561  and 
1590;  and  an  inspection  of  the  titles  alone  of  their  numerous 
productions  would  furnish  evidence  of  an  acquaintance  with  the 
stores  of  history,  mythology,  classical  fiction,  and  romance, 
strikingly  illustrative  of  the  literary  diligence  and  intellectual 
activity  of  the  age. 

Richard  hdwards  produced  a  tragi-comedy  on  the  affecting 
ancient  story  of  Damon  and  Pythias,  besides  his  comedy  of  Pa- 
lamon  and  Arcite,  formerly  noticed  as  having  been  performed 
for  the  entertainment  of  her  majesty  at  Oxford.  In  connexion 
with  this  latter  piece  it  may  be  remarked,  that  of  the  chival- 
rous idea  of  Theseus  in  this  celebrated  tale,  and  in  the  Midsum- 
mer Night's  Dream,  as  well  as  of  all  the  other  gothicized  repre- 
sentations of  ancient  heroes,  of  which  Shakespeare's  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  his  Rape  of  Lucrece,  and  some  passages  of  Spenser's 
Faery  Queen,  afford  further  examples,  Guido  Colonna's  Historia 
Trojana,  written  in  1260,  was  the  original  :  a  work  long  and 
widely  popular,  which  had  been  translated,  paraphrased  and  imi- 
tated in  French  and  English,  and  which  the  barbarism  of  its  in- 
congruities, however  palpable,  had  not  as  yet  consigned  to  ob- 
livion or  contempt. 

George  Gastoigne,  besides  his  tragedy  from  Euripides,  trans- 
lated also  a  comedy  from  Ariosto,  performed  by  the  students  of 
Gray's  Inn  under  the  title  of  the  Supposes  ;  which  was  the  first: 

*  See  Historical  Collections,  by  Collins. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


419 


pecimen  in  our  language  of  a  drama  in  prose.  Italian  literature 
was  ;><  this  period  cultivated  amongst  us  with  an  assiduity  un- 
equalled either  before  or  since,  and  it  possessed  few  authors  of 
merit  or  celebrity  whose  works  wpre  not  speedily  familiarised  to 
the  English  public  through  the  medium  of  translations.  The 
study  of  this  enchanting  language  found  however  a  vehement 
opponent  in  Roger  Ascham,  who  exclaims  against  .the  "enchant- 
ments of  Circe,  brought  out  of  Italy  to  mar  men's  manners  in 
England  ;  much  by  examples  of  ill  life,  but  more  by  precepts  of 
fond  books,  of  late  translated  out  of  Italian  into  English,  and 
sold  in  every  shop  in  London.''  He  afterwards  declares  that 
"there  be  mo  of  these  ungracious  books  set  out  in  print  within 
these  few  months  than  have  been  seen  in  England  many  years 
before."  To  these  strictures  on  the  moral  tendencies  of  the  po- 
pular writers  of  Italy  some  force  must  be  allowed  ;  but  it  is  ob- 
vious to  remark,  that  similar  objections  might  be  urged  with  at 
least  equal  cogency  against  the  favourite  classics  of  Ascham ;  and 
that  the  use  of  so  valuablean  instrument  of  intellectual  advance- 
ment as  the  free  introduction  of  the  literature  of  a  highly  po- 
lished nation  into  one  comparatively  rude,  is  not  to  be  denied  to 
beings  capable  of  moral  discrimination,  from  the  apprehension  of 
such  partial  and  incidental  injury  as  may  arise  out  of  its  abuse. 
Italy,  in  fact,  was  at  once  the  plenteous  storehouse  whence  the 
English  poets,  dramatists,  and  romance  writers  of  the  latter  half 
of  the  sixteenth  century  drew  their  most  precious  materials  ;  the 
school  where  they  acquired  taste  and  skill  to  adapt  them  to  their 
various  purposes  ;  and  the  Parnassian  mount  on  which  they 
caught  the  purest  inspirations  of  the  muse. 

Elizabeth  was  a  zealous  patroness  of  these  studies ;  she  spoke 
the  Italian  language  with  fluency  and  elegance,  and  used  it  fre- 
quently in  her  mottos  and  devices :  by  her  encouragement,  as 
we  shall  see,  Harrington  was  urged  to  complete  his  version  of 
the  Orlando  Furioso,  and  she  willingly  accepted  in  the  year 
1600  the  dedication  of  Fairfax's  admirable  translation  of  the 
great  epic  of  Tasso. 

But  to  return  to  our  dramatic  writers  :  .  .  .  .  Thomas  Kyd 
was  the  author  of  a  tragedy  entitled  Jeronimo,  which,  for  the 
absurd  horrors  of  its  plot,  and  the  mingled  puerility  and  bombast 
of  its  language,  was  a  source  of  perpetual  ridicule  to  rival  poets, 
while  from  a  certain  wild  pathos  combined  with  its  imposing 
grandiloquence  it  was  long  a  favourite  with  the  people.  The 
same  person  also  translated  a  play  by  Garni er  on  the  story  of 
Cornelia  the  wife  of  Pompey ; — a  solitary  instance  apparently 
of  obligation  to  the  French  theatre  on  the  part  of  these  founders 
of  our  national  drama. 

By  Th;imas  Hughes,  the  misfortunes  of  Arthur,  son  of  Uther 
Pendragon,  were  made  the  subject  of  a  tragedy  performed  before 
the  queen. 

Preston,  to  whom  when  a  youth  her  majesty  had  granted  a 
pension  of  a  shilling  a  day  in  consideration  of  his  excellent  acting 
in  the  play  of  Palamon  and  Arcite,  composed  on  the  story  of 


420 


THE  COURT  OF 


Cambyses  king  of  Persia,  "  A  lamentable  tragedy  mixed  full  of 
pleasant  mirth,"  which  is  now  only  remembered  as  having  been 
an  object  of  ridicule  to  Shakespeare. 

Lilly,  the  author  of  Euphues,  composed  six  court  comedies 
and  other  pieces  principally  on  classical  subjects,  but  disfigured 
by  all  the  barbarous  affectations  of  style  which  had  marked  hk 
earlier  production. 

Christopher  Marlow,  unquestionably  a  man  of  genius,  however 
deficient  in  taste  and  judgment,  astonished  the  world  with  his 
Tamburlain  the  Great,  which  became  in  a  manner  proverbial  for 
its  rant  and  extravagance  :  he  also  composed,  but  in  a  purer  style, 
and  with  a  pathetic  cast  of  sentiment,  a  d  rama  on  the  subject  of 
king  Edward  II.,  and  ministered  fuel  to  the  ferocious  prejudices 
of  the  age  by  his  fiend-like  portraiture  of  Barabas  in  The  rich 
Jew  of  Malta.  Marlow  was  also  the  author  of  a  tragedy,  in  which 
the  sublime  and  the  grotesque  were  extraordinarily  mingled, 
on  the  noted  story  of  Dr.  Faustus ;  a  tale  of  preternatural 
horrors,  which,  after  the  lapse  of  two  centuries,  was  again  to 
receive  a  similar  distinction  from  the  pen  of  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  of  German  dr  amatists :  not  the  only  example  which 
could  be  produced  of  a  coincidence  of  taste  between  the  early 
tragedians  of  the  two  countries. 

Of  the  works  of  these  and  other  contemporary  poets,  the 
fathers  of  the  English  Theatre,  some  are  extant  in  print,  others 
have  come  down  to  us  in  manuscript,  and  of  no  inconsiderable 
portion  the  titles  alone  survive.  A  few  have  acquired  an  inci- 
dental value  in  the  eyes  of  the  curious,  as  having  furnished  the 
groundwork  of  some  of  the  dramas  of  our  great  poet;  but  not  one 
of  the  number  can  justly  be  said  to  make  a  part  of  the  living 
literature  of  the  country. 

It  was  reserved  for  the  transcendant  genius  of  Shakespeare 
alone,  in  that  infancy  of  our  theatre  when  nothing  proceeded 
from  the  crowd  of  rival  dramatists  but  rude  and  abortive  efforts, 
ridiculed  by  the  learned  and  judicious  of  their  own  age  and  for- 
gotten by  posterity,  to  astonish  and  enchant  the  nation  with 
those  inimitable  works  which  form  the  perpetual  boast  and  im- 
mortal heritage  of  Englishmen. 

By  a  strange  kind  of  fatality,  which  excites  at  once  our  sur- 
prise and  our  unavailing  regrets,  the  domestic  and  the  literary 
history  of  this  great  luminary  of  his  age  are  almost  eq -lally  en- 
veloped in  doubt  and  obscurity.  Even  of  the  few  particulars  of 
his  origin  and  early  adventures  which  have  reached  us  through 
various  channels,  the  greater  number  are  either  imperfectly  at- 
tested, or  exposed  to  objections  of  different  kinds  which  render 
them  of  little  value  ;  and  respecting  his  theatrical  life  the  most 
important  circumstances  still  remain  matter  of  conjecture,  or  at 
best  of  remote  inference. 

When  Shakespeare  first  became  a  writer  for  the  stage 
what  was  his  earliest  production ; — whether  all  the  pieces  usually 
ascribed  to  him  be  really  his,  and  whether  there  be  any  others  of 
which  he  was  in  whole  or  in  part  the  author;— what  degree  of 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


421 


assistance  he  either  received  from  other  dramatic  writers  or  lent 
to  (hem; — in  what  chronological  order  his  acknowledged  pieces 
ought  to  be  arranged,  and  what  dates  should  be  assigned  to  tbeir 
first  representation  ; — are  all  questions  on  which  the  ingenuity 
and  indefatigable  diligence  of  a  crowd  of  editors,  critics  and 
biographers  have  long  been  exerted,  without  producing  any  con- 
siderable approximation  to  certainty  or  to  general  agreement. 

On  a  subject  so  intricate,  it  will  suffice  for  the  purposes  of 
the  present  work  to  state  a  few  of  the  leading  facts  which  appear 
to  rest  on  the  most  satisfactory  authorities.  William  Shake- 
speare, who  was  born  in  1564,  settled  in  London  about  1586  or 
1587,  and  seems  to  have  almost  immediately  adopted  the  profes- 
sion of  an  actor.  Yet  his  earliest  eftbrt  in  composition  was  not 
of  the  dramatic  kind  ;  for  in  1593  he  dedicated  to  his  great  pa- 
tron the  earl  of  Southampton,  as  "  the  first  heir  of  his  invention,"' 
his  Venus  and  Adonis,  a  narrative  poem  of  considerable  length 
in  the  six-line  stanza  then  popular.  In  the  subsequent  year  he 
also  inscribed  to  the  same  noble  friend  his  Rape  of  Lucrece, 
a  still  longer  poem  of  similar  form  in  the  stanza  of  seven  lines, 
and  containing  passages  of  vivid  description,  of  exquisite  ima- 
gery, and  of  sentimental  excellence,  which,  had  he  written  no- 
thing more,  would  have  entitled  him  to  rank  on  a  level  with  the 
author  of  the  Faery  Queen,  and  far  above  all  other  contemporary 
poets.  He  likewise  employed  his  pen  occasionally  in  the  com- 
position of  sonnets,  principally  devoted  to  love  and  friendship, 
and  written  perhaps  in  emulation  of  those  of  Spenser,  who  as  one 
of  these  sonnets  testifies,  was  at  this  period  the  object  of  his  ar- 
dent admiration. 

Before  the  publication  however  of  any  one  of  these  poems  he 
must  have  attained  considerable  note  as  a  dramatic  writer,  since 
Robert  Green,  in  a  satirical  piece  printed  in  1592,  speaking  of 
theatrical  concerns,  stigmatises  this  "  player"  as  "  an  absolute 
Joannes  Factotum,"  and  one  who  was  "in  his  own  conceit  the 
only  shake  scene  in  a  country." 

The  tragedy  of  Pericles,  which  was  published  in  1609  with  the 
name  of  Shakespeare  in  the  title-page,  and  of  which  Dryden 
says  in  one  of  his  prologues  to  a  first  play,  "  Shakespeare's  own 
muse  his  Pericles  first  bore,"  was  probably  acted  in  1590,  and 
appears  to  have  been  long  popular.  Romeo  and  Juliet  was  cer- 
tainly an  early  production  of  his  muse  and  one  which  excited 
much  interest,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  amongst  the  younger 
portion  of  theatrical  spectators. 

There,  is  high  satisfaction  in  observing,  that  the  age  showed 
itself  worthy  of  the  immortal  genius  whom  it  had  produced  and 
fostered.  It  is  agreed  on  all  hands  that  Shakespeare  was  be- 
loved as  a  man,  and  admired  and  patronised  as  a  poet.  In  the 
profession  of  an  actor,  indeed,  his  success  does  not  appear  to 
have  been  conspicuous;  but  the  never  failing  attraction  of  his 
pieces  brought  overflowing  audiences  to  the  Globe  theatre  in 
Southwark,  of  which  he  was  enabled  to  become  a  joint  proprie- 
tor.   Lord  Southampton  is  said  to  have  once  bestowed  on  him 


422 


THE  COURT  OF 


a  munificent  donation  of  a  thousand  pounds  to  enable  him  t» 
complete  a  purchase  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  this  nobleman  might 
also  introduce  him  to  the  notice  of  his  beloved  friend  the  earl 
of  Essex.  Of  any  particular  gratuities  bestowed  on  him  by  her 
majesty  we  are  not  informed  ;  but  there  is  every  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  he  must  have  received  from  her  on  various  occasions 
both  praises  and  remuneration  ;  for  we  are  told  that  she  caused 
several  of  his  pieces  to  be  represented  before  her,  and  that  the 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  in  particular  owed  its  origin  to  her 
desire  of  seeing  Falstaff  exhibited  in  love. 

It  remains  to  notice  the  principal  legal  enactment  of  Eliza- 
beth respecting  the  conduct  of  the  theatre,  some  of  which  are  re- 
markable. During  the  early  part  of  her  reign,  Sunday  being 
still  regarded  principally  in  the  light  of  a  holiday,  her  majesty 
not  only  selected  that  day,  more  frequently  than  any  other,  for 
the  representation  of  plays  at  court  for  her  own  amusement,  but 
by  her  license  granted  to  Burbage  in  1574  authorised  the  per- 
formance of  them  at  the  public  theatre,  on  Sundays  only  out  of 
the  hours  of  prayer.  Five  years  after,  however,  Gosson  in  his 
School  of  Abuse  complains  that  the  players,  "  because  they  are 
allowed  to  play  every  Sunday,  make  four  or  five  Sundays  at  least 
every  week."  To  limit  this  abuse,  an  order  was  issued  by  the 
privy-council  in  July  1591,  purporting  that  no  plays  should  be 
publicly  exhibited  on  Thursdays,  because  on  that  day  bear-bait- 
ing and  similar  pastimes  had  usually  been  practised  ;  and  in  an 
injunction  to  the  lord  mayor  four  days  after,  the  representation 
of  plays  on  Sunday  (or  the  Sabbath  as  it  now  began  to  be  called 
among  the  stricter  sort  of  people)  was  utterly  condemned  ;  and 
it  was  further  complained,  that  on  "  all  other  days  of  the  week 
in  divers  places  the  players  do  use  to  recite  their  plays,  to  the 
great  hurt  and  destruction  of  the  game  of  bear-baiting,  and  like 
pastimes,  which  are  maintained  for  her  majesty's  pleasure." 

In  the  year  1589  her  majesty  thought  proper  to  appoint  com- 
missioners to  inspect  all  performances  of  writers  for  the  stage, 
with  full  powers  to  reject  and  obliterate  whatever  they  might 
esteem  unmannerly,  licentious,  or  irreverent: — a  regulation 
which  might  seem  to  claim  the  applause  of  every  friend  to  public 
decency,  were  not  the  state  in  which  the  dramas  of  this  age 
have  come  down  to  posterity  sufficient  evidence,  that  to  render 
these  impressive  appeals  to  the  passions  of  assembled  multitudes 
politically  and  not  morally  inoffensive,  was  the  genuine  or  prin- 
cipal motive  of  this  act  of  power. 

In  illustration  of  this  remark,  the  following  passage  may  be 
quoted  :  "  At  supper"  the  queen  "would  divert  herself  with  her 
friends  and  attendants ;  and  if  they  made  her  no  answer,  she 
would  put  them  upon  mirth  and  pleasant  discourse  with  great 
civility.  She  would  then  admit  Tarleton,  a  famous  comedian 
and  pleasant  talker,  and  other  such  men,  to  divert  her  with 
stones  of  the  town,  and  the  common  jests  and  accidents.  Tarle- 
ton, who  was  then  the  best  comedian  in  England,  had  made  a 
pleasant  play;  and  when  it  was  acting  before  the  queen,  he 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


423 


pointed  at  Raleigh,  and  said  *  See  the  knave  commands  the 
queen  !'  for  which  he  was  corrected  by  a  frown  from  the  queen: 
vet  he  had  the  confidence  to  add,  that  he  was  of  too  much  and 
too  intolerable  a  power;  and  going  on  with  the  same  liberty,  he 
reflected  on  the  too  great  power  of  the  earl  of  Leicester;  which 
was  so  universally  applauded  by  all  present,  that  she  thought  fit 
to  bear  these  reflections  with  a  seeming  unconcernedness.  But 
yet  she  was  so  offended  that  she  forbad  Tarlton  and  all  jesters 
from  coming  near  her  table."* 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


from  1593  to  1597. 

A  parliament. — Haughty  language  of  the  queen. — Committal  of 
Wentworth  and  other  members — of  Morice. — His  letter  to  lord 
Burleigh. — Act  to  retain  subjects  in  their  due  obedience. — De- 
bates on  the  subsidy. — Free  speeches  of  Francis  Bacon  and  sir 
E.  Hobby. — Queen9 s  speech. — Notice  of  Francis  Bacon — of  An- 
thony Bacon. — Connexion  of  the  two  Bacons  with  Essex.-^ 
Francis  disappointed  of  preferment. — Conduct  of  Burleigh  to- 
wards him. — Of  Fulk  Greville. — Reflections. — Conversion  of 
Henry  IV. — Behaviour  of  Elizabeth: — War  in  Bretagne.—- 
Anecdote  of  the  queen  and  sir  C.  Blount. — Affair  of  Dr.  Lopez. 
— Squire' ]s  attempt  on  the  life  of  the  queen. — Notice  of  Ferdi- 
nando  earl  of  Derby. — Letter  of  the  queen  to  lord  Willoughby. 
— Particulars  of  sir  Walter  Raleigh. — His  expedition  to  Gui- 
ana.—  Unfortunate  enterprise  of  Drake  and  Hawkins. — Death 
of  Hawkins. — Death  and  character  of  Drake. — Letters  of  Row- 
land Whyte. — Case  of  the  earl  of  Hertford. — Anecdote  of  Essex. 
— Queen  at  the  lord  keepers. — Anecdote  of  the  queen  and  bishop 
Rudd. — Case  of  sir  T.  Arundel. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  frugal  arts  of  Elizabeth,  the  state 
of  her  finances  compelled  her  in  the  spring  of  1593  to  summon 
a  parliament.  It  was  four  entire  years  since  this  assembly  had 
last  met:  but  her  majesty  took  care  to  let  the  commons  know, 
that  the  causes  of  offence  which  had  then  occurred  were  still 
fresh  in  her  memory,  and  that  her  resolution  to  preserve  her  own 
prerogative  in  its  rigour,  and  the  ecclesiastical  commission  in 
all  its  terrors,  was  still  inflexible. 

*  See  Bohun's  character  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Among  the  various  source 
whence  the  preceding  dramatic  notices  have  b<  en  derived,  it  is  proper  to  point  out 
Dr.  Drake's  Memoirs  of  Shakespeare  and  his  Ajje,  and  Warton's  History  of  Eng  - 
lish Poetry, 


424 


THE  COURT  OF 


It  even  appeared,  that  an  apprehension  lest  her  present  ne 
cessities  might  embolden  the  parliament  to  treat  her  despotic 
mandates  with  a  deference  less  profound  than  formerly,  irritated 
her  temper,  and  prompted  her  to  assume  a  more  haughty  and 
menacing  style  than  her  habitual  study  of  popularity  had  hitherto 
permitted  her  to  employ.  In  answer  to  the  three  customary  re- 
quests  made  by  the  speaker,  for  liberty  of  speech,  freedom  from 
arrests,  and  access  to  her  person,  she  replied  by  her  lord  keeper, 
That,  such  liberty  of  speech  as  the  commons  were  justly  enti- 
tled to, — liberty,  namely,  of  aye  and  no, — she  was  willing  to 
grant ;  but  by  no  means  a  liberty  for  every  one  to  speak  what 
he  listed.  And  if  any  idle  heads  should  be  found  careless  enough 
of  their  own  safety  to  attempt  innovations  in  the  state,  or  re- 
forms in  the  church,  she  laid  her  injunctions  on  the  speaker  to 
refuse  the  bills  offered  for  such  purposes  till  they  should  have 
been  examined  by  those  who  were  better  qualified  to  judge  of 
these  matters.  She  promised  that  she  would  not  impeach  the 
liberty  of  their  persons,  provided  they  did  not  permit  themselves 
to  imagine  that  any  neglect  of  duty  would  be  allowed  to  pass 
unpunished  under  shelter  of  this  privilege  ;  and  she  engaged 
not  to  deny  them  access  to  her  person  on  weighty  affairs,  and  a1 
convenient  seasons,  when  she  should  have  leisure  from  other 
important  business  of  state. 

But  threats  alone  were  not  found  sufficient  to  restrain  all  at 
tempts  on  the  part  of  the  commons  to  exercise  their  known 
rights  and  fulfil  their  duty  to  the  country.  Peter  Wentworth, 
a  member  whose  courageous  and  independent  spirit  had  already 
drawn  upon  him  repeated  manifestations  of  royal  displeasure, 
presented  to  the  lord  keeper  a  petition,  praying  that  the  upper 
house  would  join  with  the  lower  in  a  supplication  to  the  queen 
for  fixing  the  succession.  Elizabeth,  enraged  at  the  bare  men- 
tion of  a  subject  so  offensive  to  her,  instantly  committed  to  the 
Fleet  prison  Wentworth,  sir  Thomas  Bromley  who  had  seconded 
him,  and  two  other  members  to  whom  he  had  imparted  the  busi- 
ness ;  and  when  the  house  was  preparing  to  petition  her  for 
their  release,  some  privy-councillors  dissuaded  the  step,  as  one 
which  could  only  prove  injurious  to  these  gentlemen  by  giving 
additional  offence  to  her  majesty. 

Soon  after,  James  Morice,  an  eminent  lawyer,  who  was  attor- 
ney of  the  court  of  Wards  and  chancellor  of  the  Duchy,  made 
a  motion  for  redress  of  the  abuses  in  the  bishop's  courts,  and 
especially  of  the  monstrous  ones  committed  under  the  High 
Commission.  Several  members  supported  the  motion :  but  the 
queen,  sending  in  wrath  for  the  speaker,  required  him  to  deliver 
up  to  her  the  bill ;  reminded  him  of  her  strict  injunctions  at  the 
opening  of  the  sessions,  and  testified  her  extreme  indignation 
and  surprise  at  the  boldness  of  the  commons  in  intermeddling 
with  subjects  which  she  had  expressly  forbidden  them  to  discuss. 
She  informed  him,  that  it  lay  in  her  power  to  summon  parlia-. 
ments  and  to  dismiss  them ;  and  to  sanction  or  to  reject  any 
determination  of  theirs ;  that  she  had  at  present  called  them  to- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


4<25 


gether  lor  the  twofold  purpose,  of  enacting  further  laws  for  the 
maintenance  of  religious  conformity,  and  of  providing  for  the 
national  defence  against  Spain ;  and  that  these  ought  therefore 
to  be  the  objects  of  their  deliberations. 

As  for  Morice,  he  was  seized  by  a  serjeant  at  arms  in  the 
house  itself,  stripped  of  his  offices,  rendered  incapable  of  prac- 
tising as  a  lawyer,  and  committed  to  prison,  whence  he  soon 
after  addressed  to  Burleigh  the  following  high-minded  appeal: 

"  Right  honourable  my  very  good  lord  ; 

"  That  I  am  no  more  hardly  handled,  I  impute  next  unto  God 
to  your  honourable  good  will  and  favour ;  for  although  I  am  as- 
sured that  the  cause  I  took  in  hand  is  good  and  honest,  yet  I  be- 
lieve that,  besides  your  lordship  and  that  honourable  person 
your  son,  I  have  never  an  honourable  friend.  But  no  matter; 
for  the  best  causes  seldom  find  the  most  friends,  especially  hav- 
ing many,  and  those  mighty,  enemies. 

"  I  see  no  cause  in  my  conscience  to  repent  me  of  that  I  have 
done,  nor  to  be  dismayed,  although  grieved,  by  this  my  restraint 
of  liberty  ;  for  I  stand  for  the  maintenance  of  the  honour  of  God 
and  of  my  prince,  and  for  the  preservation  of  public  justice  and 
the  liberties  of  my  country  against  wrong  and  oppression  ;  being 
well  content,  at  her  majesty's  good  pleasure  and  commandment, 
(whom  I  beseech  God  long  to  preserve  in  all  princely  felicity,) 
to  suffer  and  abide  much  more.  But  I  had  thought  that  the 
judges  ecclesiastical,  being  charged  in  the  great  council  of  the 
realm  to  be  dishonourers  of  God  and  of  her  majesty,  perverters 
of  law  and  public  justice,  and  wrong-doers  unto  the  liberties  and 
freedoms  of  all  her  majesty's  subjects,  by  their  extorted  oaths, 
wrongful  imprisonments,  lawless  subscription,  and  unjust  abso- 
lutions, would  rather  have  sought  means  to  be  cleared  of  this 
weighty  accusation,  than  to  shrowd  themselves  under  the  sup- 
pressing of  the  complaint  and  shadow  of  mine  imprisonment. 

"  There  is  fault  found  with  me,  that  I,  as  a  private  person, 
preferred  not  my  complaint  to  her  majesty  Surely,  my  lord, 
your  wisdom  can  conceive  what  a  proper  piece  of  work  I  had 
then  made  of  that :  The  worst  prison  had  been  I  think  too  good 
for  me,  since  now  (sustaining  the  person  of  a  public  counsellor 
of  the  realm  speaking  for  her  majesty's  prerogatives,  which  by 
oath  I  am  bound  to  assist  and  maintain,)  I  cannot  escape  dis- 
pleasure and  restraint  of  liberty.  Another  fault,  or  error,  is  ob* 
jected ;  in  that  I  preferred  these  causes  before  the  matters  de- 
livered from  her  majesty  were  determined.  My  good  lord  to 
have  stayed  so  long,  I  verily  think,  had  been  to  come  too  late. 
Bills  of  assize  of  bread,  shipping  of  fish,  pleadings,  and  such 
like,  may  be  offered  and  received  into  the  house,  and  no  offence 
to  her  majesty's  royal  commandment  (being  but  as  the  tything 
of  mint;)  but  the  great  causes  of  the  law  and  public  justice  may 
not  be  touched  without  offence.  Well,  my  good  lord,  be  it  so ; 
yet  I  hope  her  majesty  and  you  of  her  honourable  privy-council 
will  at  length  thoroughly  consider  of  these  things,  lest,  as  here- 


326 


THE  COURT  OF 


tofore  we  prayed,  From  the  tyranny  of  the  bishop  of  Rome,  good 
Lord  deliver  us,  we  be  compelled  to  say,  From  the  tyranny  of 
the  clergy  of  England,  good  Lord  deliver  us. 

"  Pardon  my  plain  speech,  I  humbly  beseech  your  honour,  for 
it  proceedeth  from  an  upright  heart  and  sound  conscience,  al- 
though in  a  weak  and  sickly  body  ;  and  by  God's  grace,  while 
life  doth  last,  which  I  hope  now,  after  so  many  cracks  and  crazes, 
will  not  be  long,  I  will  not  be  ashamed  in  good  and  lawful  sort 
to  strive  for  the  freedom  of  conscience,  public  justice,  and  the 
liberty  of  my  country.  And  you,  my  good  lord,  to  whose  hand 
the  stern  of  this  commonwealth  is  chiefly  committed,  I  humbly 
beseech,  (as  I  doubt  not  but  you  do,)  graciously  respect  both  me 
and  the  causes  I  have  preferred,  and  be  a  mean  to  pacify  and 
appease  her  majesty's  displeasure  conceived  against  me  her  poor, 
yet  faithful,  servant  and  subject,  &c."* 

In  October  following,  the  earl  of  Essex  ventured  to  mention 
to  her  majesty  this  persecuted  patriot  amongst  lawyers  qualified 
for  the  post  of  attorney-general,  when  "her  majesty  acknowledged 
his  gifts,  but  said  his  speaking  against  her  in  such  manner  as 
he  had  done,  should  be  a  bar  against  any  preferment  at  her 
hands."  He  is  said  to  have  been  kept  for  some  years  a  prisoner 
in  Tilbury  castle ;  and  whether  he  ever  recovered  his  liberty 
may  seem  doubtful,  since  he  died  in  February  1596,  aged  48. 

The  house  of  commons,  unacquainted  as  yet  with  its  own 
strength,  submitted  without  further  question  to  regard  as  law 
the  will  of  an  imperious  mistress,  and  passed  with  little  oppo- 
sition "  An  act  to  retain  her  majesty's  subjects  in  their  due  obe- 
dience," which  vied  in  cruelty  with  the  noted  Six  Articles  of 
her  tyrannical  father. 

By  this  law,  any  person  above  sixteen  who  should  refuse  dur- 
ing a  month  to  attend  the  established  worship,  was  to  be  impri- 
soned ;  when,  should  he  further  persist  in  his  refusal  during 
three  months  longer,  he  must  abjure  the  realm ;  but  in  case  of 
his  rejecting  this  alternative,  or  returning  from  banishment,  his 
offence  was  declared  felony  without  benefit  of  clergy. 

The  business  of  supplies  was  next  taken  into  consideration, 
and  the  commons  voted  two  susidies  and  four  fifteenths ;  but  this 
not  appearing  to  the  ministry  sufficient  for  the  exigencies  of  the 
state,  the  peers  were  induced  to  request  a  conference  with  the 
lower  house  for  the  purpose  of  proposing  the  augmentation  of 
the  grant  to  four  subsidies  and  six  fifteenths.  The  commons  re- 
sented at  first  this  interference  with  their  acknowledged  privi- 
lege of  originating  all  money  bills  ;  but  dread  of  the  well  known 
consequences  of  offending  their  superiors,  prevailed  at  length 
over  their  indignation  ;  and  first  the  conference,  then  the  addi- 
tional supply,  was  acceded  to.  Some  debate,  however,  arose  on 
the  time  to  be  allowed  for  the  payment  of  so  heavy  an  imposi- 
tion ;  and  the  illustrious  Francis  Bacon,  then  member  for  Mid- 
dlesex, enlarged  upon  the  distresses  of  the  people,  and  the  danger - 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


42r 


lest  the  house,  by  this  grant,  should  be  establishing  a  precedent 
against  themselves  and  their  posterity,  in  a  speech,  to  which  his 
courtly  kinsman  sir  Robert  Cecil  replied  with  much  warmth, 
and  of  which  her  majesty  showed  a  resentful  remembrance  on  his 
appearing  soon  after  as  a  candidate  for  the  office  of  attorney  ge- 
neral. His  cousin  sir  Edward  Hobby  also,  whose  speeches  in 
the  former  parliament  had  been  ill-received  by  certain  great  per- 
sons, took  such  a  part  in  some  of  the  questions  now  at  issue  be- 
tween the  crown  and  the  commons,  as  procured  him  an  impri- 
sonment till  the  end  of  the  sessions,  when  he  was  at  length  libe- 
rated ;  "  but  not,"  as  Anthony  Bacon  wrote  to  his  mother,  "  with- 
out a  notable  public  disgrace  laid  upon  him  by  her  majesty's 
royal  censure  delivered  amongst  other  things,  by  herself,  after 
my  lord  keeper's  speech."* 

In  this  parting  harangue  to  her  parliament,  the  queen,  little 
touched  by  the  unprecedented  liberality  of  the  supplies  which  it 
had  granted  her,  and  the  passing  of  her  favourite  bill  against  the 
schismatics  and  recusants,  animadverted  in  severe  terms  on  the 
oppositionists,  reiterated  the  lofty  claims  with  which  she  had 
opened  the  sessions,  and  pronounced  an  eulogium  on  the  justice 
and  moderation  of  her  own  government.  She  also  entered  into 
the  grounds  of  her  quarrel  with  the  king  of  Spain;  showed  her- 
self undismayed  by  the  apprehension  of  any  thing  which  his  once 
dreaded  power  could  attempt  against  her ;  and  characteristi- 
cally added,  in  adverting  to  the  defeat  of  the  armada,  the  fol- 
lowing energetic  warning :  "  I  am  informed,  that  when  he  at- 
tempted this  last  invasion,  some  upon  the  sea  coast  forsook  their 
towns,  fled  up  higher  into  the  country,  and  left  all  naked  and 
exposed  to  his  entrance.  But  I  swear  unto  you  by  God,  if  I 
knew  those  persons,  or  may  know  hereafter,  I  will  make  them 
know  what  it  is  to  be  fearful  in  so  urgent  a  cause/' 

The  appearance  of  Francis  Bacon  in  the  house  of  commons 
affords  a  fit  occasion  of  tracing  the  previous  history  of  this  won- 
derful man,  and  of  explaining  his  peculiar  situation  between  the 
two  great  factions  of  the  court,  and  the  influence  exerted  by  this 
circumstance  on  his  character  and  after  fortunes.  That  early 
promise  of  his  genius  which  in  childhood  attracted  the  admir- 
ing observation  of  Elizabeth  herself,  had  been  confirmed  by 
every  succeeding  year.  In  the  thirteenth  of  his  age,  an  earlier 
period  than  was  even  then  customary,  he  was  entered,  together 
with  his  elder  brother  Anthony,  of  Trinity  college  Cambridge. 
At  this  seat  of  learning  he  remained  three  years,  during  which, 
besides  exhibiting  his  powers  of  memory  and  application  by  great 
proficiency  in  the  ordinary  studies  of  the  place,  he  evinced  the 
extraordinary  precocity  of  his  penetrating  and  original  intellect, 
by  forming  the  first  sketch  of  a  new  system  of  philosophy  in  op- 
position to  that  of  Aristotle. 

His  father  designing  him  for  public  life,  now  sent  him  to  com- 
plete his  education  in  the  house  of  sir  Amias  Paulet,  the  queen's 


*  Birch's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  96. 


THE  COURT  OF 


ambassador  in  France.  He  gained  the  confidence  of  this  able 
and  honourable  man  to  such  a  degree,  as  to  be  intrusted  by  him 
with  a  mission  to  her  majesty  requiring  secrecy  and  dispatch, 
of  which  he  acquitted  himself  with  great  applause.  Returning 
to  France,  he  engaged  in  several  excursions  through  its  different 
provinces,  and  diligently  occupied  himself  in  the  collection  of 
facts  and  observations,  which  he  afterwards  threw  together  in  a 
"  Brief  View  of  the  State  of  Europe;"  a  work,  however  juvenile, 
which  is  said  to  exhibit  much  both  of  the  peculiar  spirit  and  of 
the  method  of  its  illustrous  author.  But  the  death  of  his  father, 
in  1580,  put  an  end  to  his  travels,  and  cast  a  melancholy  blight 
upon  his  opening  prospects. 

For  Anthony  Bacon,  the  eldest  of  his  sons  by  his  second  mar- 
riage, the  lord  keeper  had  handsomely  provided  by  the  gift  of  his 
manor  of  Gorhambury,  and  he  had  amassed  a  considerable  sum 
with  which  he  was  about  to  purchase  another  estate  for  the  por- 
tion of  the  younger,  when  death  interrupted  his  design  ;  and  only 
one-fifth  of  this  money  falling  to  Francis  under  the  provisions 
of  his  father's  will,  he  unexpectedly  found  himself  compelled  to 
resort  to  the  practice  of  some  gainful  profession  for  his  support. 
That  of  the  law  naturally  engaged  his  preference.  He  entered 
himself  of  Gray's  Inn,  and  passed  within  its  precincts  several 
studious  years,  during  which  he  made  himself  master  of  the  ge- 
neral principles  of  jurisprudence,  as  well  as  of  the  rules  of  legal 
practice  in  his  own  country  ;  and  he  also  found  leisure  to  trace  the 
outlines  of  his  new  philosophy  in  a  work  not  now  known  to  exist 
in  a  separate  state,  but  incorporated  probably  in  one  of  his  more 
finished  productions.  In  1588  her  majesty,  desirous  perhaps  of 
encouraging  a  more  entire  devotion  of  his  talents  to  the  study 
of  the  law,  distinguished  him  by  the  title  of  her  counsel  extraor- 
dinary,— an  office  of  little  emolument,  though  valuable  as  an 
introduction  to  practice.  But  the  genius  of  Bacon  disdained 
to  plod  in  the  trammels  of  a  laborious  profession ;  he  felt  that 
it  was  given  him  for  higher  and  larger  purposes  :  yet  perceiving, 
at  the  same  time,  that  the  narrowness  of  his  circumstances  would 
prove  an  insuperable  bar  to  his  ambition  of  becoming,  as  he  once 
beautifully  expressed  it,  "  the  servant  of  posterity,''  he  thus,  in 
1591,  solicited  the  patronage  of  his  uncle  lord  Burleigh:  "Again, 
the  meanness  of  my  estate  doth  somewhat  move  me  :  for  though 
I  cannot  accuse  myself  that  I  am  either  prodigal  or  slothful,  yet 
my  health  is  not  to  spend,  nor  my  course  to  get :  Lastly,  I  con- 
fess that  I  have  as  vast  contemplative  ends  as  I  have  moderate 
civil  ends  ;  fori  have  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  my  province  ; 
and  if  I  could  purge  it  of  two  sorts  of  rovers,  whereof  the  one 
with  frivolous  disputations,  confutations  and  verbosities,  the  other 
with  blind  experiments  and  auricular  traditions  and  impostures, 
hath  committed  so  many  spoils,  I  hope  I  should  bring  in  indus- 
trious observations,  grounded  conclusions,  and  profitable  inven- 
tions and  discoveries,  the  best  state  of  that  province.  This, 
whether  it  be  curiosity,  or  vain  glory,  or  nature,  or,  if  one  take 
it  favourably,  philanthropic!,  is  so  fixed  in  my  mind  as  it  cannot 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


429 


he  removed.  And  I  do  easily  see,  that  place  of  any  reasonable 
countenance  doth  bring  commandment  of  more  wits  than  a  man's 
own  ;  which  is  the  thing  I  do  greatly  affect. 

Burleigh  was  no  philosopher,  though  a  lover  of  learning,  and  it 
could  not  perhaps  be  expected  that  he  should  at  once  perceive 
how  eminently  worthy  was  this  labourer  of  the  hire  which  he 
was  reduced  to  solicit.  He  contented  himself  therefore  with 
procuring  for  his  kinsman  the  reversion  of  the  place  of  register 
of  the  Starchamber,  worth  about  sixteen  hundred  pounds  per 
annum.  Of  this  office  however,  which  might  amply  have  satis- 
lied  the  wants  of  a  student,  it  was  unfortunately  near  twenty 
years  before  Bacon  obtained  possession  ;  and  during  this  tedious 
time  of  expectation,  he  was  wont  to  say,  "that  it  was  like  another 
man's  ground  abutting  upon  his  house,  which  might  mend  his  pros- 
pect, but  it  did  not  fill  his  barn."  He  made  however  a  grateful  re- 
turn to  the  lord  treasurer  for  this  instance  of  patronage,  by  com- 
posing an  answer  to  a  popish  libel,  entitled  "  A  Declaration  of 
the  true  causes  of  the  late  Troubles,"  in  which  he  warmly  vin- 
dicated the  conduct  of  this  minister,  of  his  own  father,  and  of 
other  members  of  the  administration ;  not  forgetting  to  make  a 
high  eulogium  on  the  talents  and  dispositions  of  Robert  Cecil, — 
now  the  most  powerful  instrument  at  court  to  serve  or  to  injure. 
Unhappily  for  the  fortunes  of  Bacon,  and  in  some  respects  for 
his  moral  character  also,  this  selfish  and  perfidious  statesman 
was  endowed  with  sufficient  reach  of  intellect  to  form  some  esti- 
mate of  the  transcendant  abilities  of  his  kinsman ;  and  struck 
with  dread  or  envy,  he  seems  to  have  formed  a  systematic  design 
of  impeding  by  every  art  his  favour  and  advancement.  Unmoved 
by  the  eloquent  adulation  with  which  Bacon  sought  to  propitiate 
his  regard,  he  took  all  occasions  to  represent  him  to  the  queen, 
and  with  some  degree  of  justice  though  more  of  malice,  as  a  man 
of  too  speculative  a  turn  to  apply  in  earnest  to  the  practical  de- 
tails of  business  ;  one  moreover  whose  head  was  so  filled  with 
abstract  and  philosophical  notions,  that  he  would  not  fail  to 
perplex  any  public  affairs  in  which  he  might  be  permitted  to  take 
a  lead.  The  effect  of  these  suggestions  on  the  mind  of  Eliza- 
beth was  greatly  aggravated  by  the  conduct  of  Bacon  in  the 
parliament  of  1593,  in  consequence  of  which  her  majesty  for  a 
considerable  time  denied  him  that  access  to  her  person  with 
which  he  had  hitherto  been  freely  and  graciously  indulged. 

Some  years  before  this  period,  Francis  Bacon  had  become 
known  to  the  earl  of  Essex,  whose  genuine  love  of  merit  induced 
him  to  offer  him  his  friendship  and  protection.  The  eagerness 
with  which  these  were  accepted  had  deeply  offended  the  Cecils ; 
and  their  displeasure  was  about  this  time  increased,  on  seeing 
Anthony  Bacon,  by  his  brother's  persuasion,  enlist  himself  under 
the  banner  of  the  same  political  leader. 

Anthony,  whose  singular  history  is  on  many  accounts  worthy 
of  notice,  was  a  man  of  an  inquisitive  and  crafty  turn  of  mind, 
and  seemingly  born  for  a  politician.  He,  like  his  brother,  had 
"been  induced  to  pay  a  visit  to  France,  as  the  completion  of  a 


430 


THE  COURT  OF 


liberal  education  ;  and  not  finding  himself  involved  in  the  same 
pecuniary  difficulties,  he  had  been  enabled  to  make  his  abode  in 
that  country  of  much  longer  duration.  From  Paris,  which  he 
first  visited  in  1579,  he  proceeded  to  Bourges,  Geneva,  Mont- 
pelier,  Marseilles,  Montauban  and  Bordeaux,  in  each  of  which 
cities  he  resided  for  a  considerable  length  of  time.  At  the  latter 
place  he  rendered  some  services  to  the  protestant  inhabitants 
at  great  personal  hazard.  In  1584  he  visited  Henry  IV.  then, 
king  of  Navarre,  at  Beam,  and  in  1586  he  contracted  at  Mon- 
tauban an  intimacy  with  the  celebrated  Hugonot  leader,  du 
Plessis  de  Mornay.  As  Anthony  Bacon  was  invested  with  no 
public  character,  his  continued  and  voluntary  abode  in  a  catho- 
lic country  began  at  length  to  excite  a  suspicion  in  the  mind  of 
his  mother,  his  friends,  and  the  queen  herself,  that  his  conduct 
was  influenced  by  some  secret  bias  towards  the  Romish  faith 
an  impression  which  received  confirmation  from  the  intimacies 
which  he  cultivated  with  several  English  exiles  and  pensioners 
of  the  king  of  Spain.  This  idea  appears,  however,  to  have  been 
unfounded.  It  was  often  by  the  express,  though  secret,  request 
of  Burleigh  that  he  formed  these  connexions  ;  and  he  had  fre- 
quently supplied  this  minister  with  important  articles  of  intelli- 
gence procured  from  such  persons,  with  whom  it  was  by  no 
means  unusual  to  perform  the  office  of  spy  to  England  and  to 
Spain  alternately,  or  even  to  both  at  the  same  time.  At  length, 
the  urgency  of  his  friends  and  the  clamours  of  his  mother,  whose 
protestant  zeal,  setting  a  sharper  edge  on  a  temper  naturally 
keen,  prompted  her  to  employ  expressions  of  great  violence, 
compelled  him,  after  many  delays,  to  quit  the  continent ;  and  in 
the  beginning  of  1592  he  returned  to  his  native  country.  His 
miserable  state  of  health,  from  the  gout  and  other  disorders 
which  rendered  him  a  cripple  for  life,  prevented  his  encountering 
the  fatigues  of  the  usual  court  attendance :  yet  he  lost  no  time 
in  procuring  a  seat  in  parliament ;  and  his  close  connexion  with 
the  Cecils,  joined  to  the  opinion  entertained  of  his  political 
talents,  seems  to  have  excited  a  general  expectation  of  his  rising 
to  high  importance  in  the  state.  But  he  was  not  long  in  disco- 
vering, that  for  some  unknown  reason  the  lord  treasurer  was 
little  his  friend ;  and  offended  at  the  coolness  with  which  his 
secret  intelligence  from  numerous  foreign  correspondents  was 
received  by  this  minister  and  his  son,  in  their  joint  capacity  of 
secretaries  of  state,  he  was  easily  prevailed  upon  to  address  him- 
self to  Essex. 

The  earl  had  by  this  time  learned,  that  there  was  no  surer 
mode  of  recommending  himself  to  her  majesty,  and  persuading 
her  of  his  extraordinary  zeal  for  her  service,  than  to  provide  her 
with  a  constant  supply  of  authentic  and  early  intelligence  from 
the  various  countries  of  Europe,  on  which  she  kept  a  vigilant 
and  jealous  eye.  He  was  accordingly  occupied  in  establishing 
news-agents  in  every  quarter,  and  the  opportune  offers  of  An- 
thony Bacon  were  accepted  by  him  with  the  utmost  eagerness. 
A  connexion  was  immediately  established  between  them,  which 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


45i 


ripened  with  time  into  so  confidential  an  intimacy,  that  in  1595 
the  earl  prevailed  on  Mr.  Bacon  to  accept  of  apartments  in 
Essex-house,  which  he  continued  to  occupy  till  commanded  by 
her  majesty  to  quit  them  on  the  breaking  out  of  the  last  rash 
enterprise  of  his  patron. 

Struck  with  the  boundless  affection  manifested  by  Anthony 
towards  his  brother,  with  whom  he  had  established  an  entire 
community  of  interests,  Essex  now  espoused  with  more  warmth 
than  ever  the  cause  of  Francis.  He  strained  every  nerve  to  gain 
for  him,  in  1592,  the  situation  of  attorney -general :  but  Burleigh 
opposed  the  appointment;  Robert  Cecil  openly  expressed  to  the 
earl  his  surprise  that  he  should  seek  to  procure  it  for  "  a  raw 
youth and  her  majesty  declared  that,  after  the  manner  in 
which  Francis  Bacon  had  stood  up  against  her  in  parliament, 
admission  to  her  presence  was  the  only  favour  to  which  he  ought 
to  aspire.  She  added,  that  in  her  father's  time  such  conduct 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  banish  a  man  the  court  for  life. 
Lowering  his  tone,  Essex  afterwards  sought  for  his  friend  the 
office  of  solicitor-general ;  but  the  same  prejudices  and  antipa- 
thies still  thwarted  him  :  and  finding  all  his  efforts  vain  to  esta- 
blish him  in  any  public  station  of  honour  or  emolument,  he  nobly 
compensated  his  disappointment  and  relieved  his  necessities  by 
the  gift  of  an  estate. 

The  spirit  of  Bacon  was  neither  a  courageous  nor  a  lofty  one. 
He  too  soon  repented  of  his  generous  exertions  in  the  popular 
cause,  and  sought  to  atone  for  them  by  so  entire  a  submission  of 
himself  to  her  majesty,  accompanied  with  such  eloquent  profes- 
sions of  duty,  humility,  and  profound  respect,  that  we  can 
scarcely  doubt  that  a  word  of  solicitation  from  the  lips  of  Bur« 
leigh  might  have  gained  him  an  easy  pardon.  It  is  painful  to 
think  that  any  party  jealousies,  or  any  compliance  with  the  ma- 
lignant passions  of  his  son,  should  so  have  poisoned  the  naturally 
friendly  and  benevolent  disposition  of  this  aged  minister,  that 
he  could  bear  to  withhold  the  offices  of  kindness  from  the 
nephew  of  his  late  beloved  wife,  and  the  son  of  one  of  his  nearest 
friends  and  most  cordial  coadjutors  in  public  life.  But  accord- 
ing to  the  maxims  of  court  factions,  hisdesertion  of  the  Bacons 
might  be  amply  justified  ; — they  had  made  their  election,  and  it 
was  the  patronage  of  Essex  which  they  preferred.  Experience 
taught  them  too  late,  that  for  their  own  interests  they  had 
chosen  wrong.  Since  the  death  of  Leicester,  the  Cecils  had  pos- 
sessed all  the  real  power  at  the  court  of  Elizabeth :  they  and 
they  only  could  advance  their  adherents.  Essex,  it  is  true, 
through  the  influence  which  he  exerted  over  the  imagination  or 
the  affections  of  the  queen,  could  frequently  obtain  grants  to 
himself  of  real  importance  and  great  pecuniary  value.  But  her 
majesty's  singular  caprice  of  temper  rendered  her  jealous  of 
every  mark  of  favour  extorted  from  the  tender  weakness  of  her 
heart ;  and  she  appears  to  have  almost  made  it  a  rule  to  com 
pensate  every  act  of  bounty  towards  himself  by  some  sensible 
mortification  which  she  made  him  suffer  in  the  person  of  a  friend 


432 


THE  COURT  OF 


So  little  was  his  patronage  the  road  to  advancement,  that  sir 
Thomas  Smith,  clerk  of  the  council,  is  recorded  as  the  solitary 
instance  of  a  man  preferred  out  of  his  household  to  the  service 
of  her  majesty ;  and  Bacon  himself  somewhere  says,  speaking  of 
the  queen,  "  Against  me  she  is  never  positive  but  to  my  lord  of 
Essex." 

Fulk  Greville  was  one  of  the  few  who  did  honour  to  themselves 
by  becoming  at  this  time  the  advocate  of  Francis  Bacon  with  the 
queen ;  and  his  solicitations  were  heard  by  her  with  such  ap- 
parent complacency,  that  he  wrote  to  Bacon,  that  he  would 
wager  two  to  one  on  his  chance  of  becoming  attorney,  or  at  least 
solicitor-general.  But  Essex  was  to  be  mortified,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  this  generous  Maecenas  was  exerted  finally  in  vain. 
To  his  unfortunate  choice  of  a  patron  then,  joined  to  the  indis- 
creet zeal  with  which  that  patron  pleaded  his  cause  "  in  season, 
and  out  of  season,"  we  are  to  ascribe  in  part  the  neglect  expe- 
rienced by  Bacon  during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  But  other 
causes  concurred,  which  it  may  be  interesting  to  trace,  and 
which  it  would  be  injustice  both  to  the  queen  and  to  Burleigh 
to  pass  over  in  silence. 

At  the  period  when  Bacon  first  appealed  to  the  friendship  of 
the  lord  treasurer  in  the  letter  above  cited,  he  was  already  in  the 
thirtieth  year  of  his  age,  and  had  borne  for  two  years  the  cha- 
racter of  queen's  counsel  extraordinary ;  but  to  the  courts  of 
law  he  was  so  entire  a  stranger,  that  it  was  not  till  one  or  two 
years  afterwards  that  we  find  him  pleading  his  first  cause.  It 
was  pretty  evident  therefore  in  1592,  when  he  sought  the  office 
of  attorney  general,  that  necessity  alone  had  made  it  the  object 
of  his  wishes  ;  and  his  known  inexperience  in  the  practice  of  the 
law  might  reasonably  justify  in  the  queen  and  her  ministers 
some  scruple  of  placing  him  in  so  responsible  a  post.  As  a  phi- 
losopher indeed,  no  encouragement  could  exceed  his  deserts ; 
but  this  was  a  character  which  very  few  even  of  the  learned  of 
that  day  were  capable  of  appreciating.  Physical  science,  dis- 
graced by  its  alliance  with  the  "  blind  experiments"  of  alchemy 
and  the  deluding  dreams  of  judicial  astrology,  was  in  possession 
of  few  titles  to  the  respect  of  mankind  ;  and  its  professors, — 
credulous  enthusiasts,  for  the  most  part,  or  designing  impostors, 
— usually  ended  by  bringing  shame  and  loss  on  such  persons  as 
greedy  hopes  or  vain  curiosity  bribed  to  become  their  patrons. 

That  general  "  Installation"  of  the  sciences  which  the  mighty 
genius  of  Bacon  had  projected,  was  a  scheme  too  vast  and  too 
profound  to  be  comprehended  by  the  minds  of  Elizabeth  and  her 
statesmen;  and  as  it  was  not  of  a  nature  to  address  itself  to  their 
passions  and  interests,  we  must  not  wonder  if  they  should  have 
regarded  it  with  indifference.  At  this  period,  too,  it  existed 
only  in  embryo ;  and  so  little  was  the  public  intellect  prepared 
to  seize  the  first  hints  thrown  out  by  its  illustrious  author,  that 
even  many  years  afterwards,  when  his  system  had  been  produced 
to  the  world  nearly  in  a  state  of  maturity,  the  general  sentiment 
seems  pretty  much  to  have  corresponded  with  the  judgment  of 


,  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

km";  James,  "that  the  philosophy  of  Bacon  was  like  the  peace 
of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding." 

All  these  considerations,  however,  are  scarcely  sufficient  to 
vindicate  the  boasted  discernment  of  Elizabeth  from  disgrace,  in 
having  suffered  the  most  illustrious  sage  of  her  reign  and  country 
who  was  at  the  same  time  its  brightest  wit  and  most  accom- 
plished orator,  known  to  her  from  his  birch,  and  the  son  of  a 
wise  and  faithful  servant  whose  memory  she  held  in  honour — to 
languish  in  poverty  and  discouragement ;  useless  to  herself  and 
to  the  public  affairs,  and  a  burthen  to  his  own  thoughts. 

The  king  of  France  found  it  expedient  about  this  time  to  de- 
clare himself  a  convert  to  the  church  of  Rome.  For  this  change 
of  religion,  whether  sincere  or  otherwise,  he  might  plead,  not 
only  the  personal  motive  of  gaining  possession  of  the  throne  of 
his  inheritance,  which  seemed  to  be  denied  to  him  on  other  terms, 
but  the  patriotic  one  of  rescuing  his  exhausted  country  from  the 
miseries  of  a  protracted  civil  war ;  and  whatever  might  be  the 
decision  of  a  scrupulous  moralist  on  the  case,  it  is  certain  that 
Elizabeth  at  least  had  small  title  to  reprobate  a  compliance,  of 
which,  under  the  reign  of  her  sister,  she  had  herself  set  the  ex- 
ample. But  the  character  of  the  protestant  heroine  with  which 
circumstances  had  invested  her,  obliged  her  to  overlook  this  in- 
consistency ;  and  as  demonstrations  cost  her  little,  she  not  only 
indicted  on  the  occasion  a  solemn  letter  of  reproof  to  her  ally, 
but  actually  professed  herself  so  deeply  wounded  by  his  dere- 
liction of  principle,  that  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  tranquillise 
her  mind  by  the  perusal  of  many  pious  works,  and  the  study  of 
Boethius  on  consolation,  which  she  even  undertook  the  task  of 
translating.  Essex,  whom  she  honoured  with  a  sight  of  her  per- 
formance, was  adroit  enough  to  suggest  to  the  royal  author,  as  a 
principal  motive  of  his  urgency  with  her  to  restore  Francis  Bacon 
to  her  favour,  the  earnest  desire  which  he  felt  that  her  majesty's 
excellent  translations  should  be  viewed  by  those  most  capable 
of  appreciating  their  merits. 

The  indignation  of  Elizabeth  against  Henry's  apostacy  was 
not  however  so  violent  as  to  exclude  the  politic  consideration, 
that  it  was  still  her  interest  to  support  the  king  of  France  against 
the  king  of  Spain ;  and  besides  continuing  her  wonted  supplies, 
she  soon  after  entered  with  him  into  a  new  engagement,  pur- 
porting that  they  should  never  make  peace  but  by  mutual 
consent. 

Bretagne  was  still  the  scene  of  action  to  the  English  aux- 
iliaries. Under  sir  John  Norris,  their  able  commander,  they 
shared  in  the  service  of  wresting  from  the  Spaniards,  by  whom 
they  had  been  garrisoned,  the  towns  of  Morlaix,  Quimperco- 
rentin,  and  Brest ;  their  valour  was  every  where  conspicuous ; 
and  the  eagerness  of  the  young  courtiers  of  Elizabeth,  to  share 
in  the  glory  of  these  enterprises  rose  to  a  passion,  which  she 
sometimes  thought  it  necessary  to  repress  with  a  show  of  seve- 
rity ;  as  in  the  following  instance  related  by  Naunton  : 

Sir  Charles  Blount,  afterwards  lord  Mountjoy,  "  having  twice 

3  I 


434 


THE  COURT  OF 


or  thrice  stolen  away  into  Bretagne,  (where  under  sir  John 
Norris  he  had  then  a  company,)  without  the  queen's  leave  and 
privity,  she  sent  a  messenger  unto  him,  with  a  strict  charge  to 
the  general  to  see  him  sent  home.  When  he  came  into  the 
queen's  presence,  she  fell  into  a  kind  of  reviling,  demanding 
how  he  durst  go  over  without  her  leave  ?  «  Serve  me  so,  quoth 
she,  '  once  more,  and  I  will  lay  you  fast  enough  for  running ; 
you  will  never  leave  it  until  you  are  knocked  on  the  head,  as 
that  inconsiderate  fellow  Sidney  was.  You  shall  go  when  I  send 
you,  and  in  the  meantime  see  that  you  lodge  in  the  court,' 
(which  was  then  at  Whitehall)  *  where  you  may  follow  your 
book,  read,  and  discourse  of  the  wars.'  " 

Philip  II.,  unable  to  win  glory  or  advantage  against  Elizabeth 
in  open  and  honourable  warfare,  sought  a  base  revenge  upon  her 
by  proposing  through  secret  agents  vast  rewards  to  any  who 
could  be  brought  to  attempt  her  destruction.  It  was  no  easy 
task  to  discover  persons  sufficiently  rash,  as  well  as  wicked,  to 
undertake  from  motives  purely  mercenary  a  villainy  of  which 
the  peril  was  so  appalling ;  but  at  length  Fuentes  and  Ibarra, 
joint  governors  of  the  Netherlands,  succeeded  in  bribing  Dr. 
Lopez,  domestic  physician  to  the  queen,  to  mix  poison  in  her 
medicine.  Essex,  whose  watchfulness  over  the  life  of  his  sove- 
reign was  remarkable,  whilst  his  intelligences  were  comparable 
in  extent  and  accuracy  to  those  ofWalsingham  himself,  was  the 
first  to  give  notice  of  this  atrocious  plot.  At  his  instance  Lopez 
was  apprehended,  examined  before  himself,  the  treasurer,  the  lord 
admiral,  and  Robert  Cecil,  and  committed  to  custody  in  the  earl's 
house.  But  nothing  decisive  appearing  on  his  first  examination, 
Robert  Cecil  took  occasion  to  represent  the  charge  as  groundless; 
and  her  majesty,  sending  in  heat  for  Essex,  called  him  "  rash  and 
temerarious  youth,"  and  reproached  him  for  bringing  on  slight 
grounds  so  heinous  a  suspicion  upon  an  innocent  man.  The 
earl,  incensed  to  find  his  diligent  service  thus  repaid,  through 
the  successful  artifice  of  his  enemy,  quitted  the  presence  in  a 
paroxysm  of  rage,  and,  according  to  his  practice  on  similar  oc- 
casions, shut  himself  up  in  his  chamber,  which  he  refused  to 
quit  till  the  queen  herself  two  or  three  days  afterwards  sent  the 
lord  admiral  to  mediate  a  reconciliation. 

Further  interrogatories,  mingled  probably  with  menaces  of 
the  torture,  brought  Lopez  to  confess  the  fact  of  his  having  re- 
ceived the  king  of  Spain's  bribe ;  but  he  persisted  in  denying 
that  it  was  ever  in  his  thoughts  to  perpetrate  the  crime.  This 
subterfuge  did  not,  however,  save  him  from  an  ignominious  death, 
which  he  shared  with  two  other  persons  whom  Fuentes  and 
Ibarra  had  hired  for  a  similar  undertaking. 

The  Spanish  court  disdained  to  return  any  satisfactory  answer 
to  the  complaints  of  Elizabeth  respecting  these  designs  against 
her  life ;  but  either  shame,  or  more  likely  the  fear  of  reprisals, 
seems  to  have  deterred  it  from  any  repetition  of  experiments  so. 
perilous. 

About  two  years  afterwards,  however,  an  English  Jesuit  named 
Walpole,  who  was  settled  in  Spain,  and  intimately  connected 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


435 


with  the  noted  father  Parsons,  instigated  an  attempt  worthy  of 
record,  partly  as  a  curious  instance  of  the  exaggerated  ideas  then 
prevajent  of  the  force  of  poisons.  In  the  last  voyage  of  Drake  to 
the  West  Indies,  a  small  vessel  of  his  was  captured  and  carried 
into  a  port  of  Spain,  on  board  of  which  was  one  Squire,  formerly 
a  purveyor  for  the  queen's  stables.  With  this  prisoner  Walpole, 
as  a  diligent  servant  of  his  Church,  undertook  to  make  himself 
acquainted ;  and  finding  him  a  resolute  fellow,  and  of  capacity 
and  education  above  his  rank,  he  spared  no  pains  to  convert  him 
to  popery.  This  step  gained,  he  diligently  plied  him  with  his 
Jesuitical  arguments,  and  so  thoroughly  persuaded  him  of  the 
duty  and  merit  of  promoting  by  any  kind  of  means  the  overthrow 
of  heresy,  that  Squire  at  length  consented  to  bind  himself  by  a 
solemn  vow  to  make  an  attempt  against  the  life  of  Elizabeth  in 
the  mode  which  should  be  pointed  out  to  him : — an  enterprise, 
as  he  was  assured,  which  would  be  attended  with  little  personal 
danger,  and,  in  case  of  the  worst,  would  assuredly  be  recom- 
pensed by  an  immediate  admission  into  the  joys  of  heaven. 

Finally,  the  worthy  father  presented  to  his  disciple  a  packet 
of  some  poisonous  preparation,  which  he  enjoined  him  to  take  an 
opportunity  of  spreading  on  the  pommel  of  the  queen's  saddle. 
The  queen  in  mounting  would  transfer  the  ointment  to  her  hand ; 
with  her  hand  she  was  likely  to  touch  her  mouth  or  nostrils  ;  and 
such,  as  he  averred,  was  the  virulence  of  the  poison  that  certain 
death  must  followr. 

Squire  returned  to  England,  enlisted  for  the  Cadiz  expedition, 
and  on  the  eve  of  its  sailing  took  tjie  preparation  and  disposed 
of  it  as  directed.  Desirous  of  adding  to  his  merits,  he  found 
means  during  the  voyage  to  anoint  in  like  manner  the  arms  of 
the  earl  of  Essex's  chair.  The  failure  of  the  application  in  both 
instances  greatly  surprised  him.  To  the  Jesuit  it  appeared  so 
unaccountable,  that  he  was  persuaded  Squire  had  deceived  him; 
and  actuated  at  once  by  the  desire  of  punishing  his  defection, 
and  the  fear  of  his  betraying  such  secrets  of  the  party  as  had  been 
confided  to  him,  he  consummated  his  villainy  by  artfully  con- 
veying to  the  English  government  an  intimation  of  the  plot. 
Squire  was  apprehended,  and  at  first  denied  all :  "  but  by  good 
counsel,  and  the  truth  working  withal,"  according  to  Speed's 
expression,  was  brought  to  confess  what  could  not  otherwise 
have  been  proved  against  him,  and  suffered  penitently  for  his 
offence.  Our  chronicler  admires  the  providence  which  inter- 
fered for  the  protection  of  her  majesty  in  this  great  peril,  and 
compares  it  to  the  miraculous  preservation  of  St.  Paul  from  the 
bite  of  the  viper.  / 

The  Jesuits  are  supposed  to  have  employed  more  efficacious 
instruments  for  the  destruction  of  Ferdinando  earl  of  Derby, 
who  died  in  April  1594.  This  nobleman  had  the  misfortune  to 
be  grandson  of  Eleanor  countess  of  Cumberland,  the  younger 
daughter  of  Mary  queen  dowager  of  France,  and  sister  of  Henry 
VIII.  by  her  second  husband  Charles  Brandon,  duke  of  Suffolk  ; 
and  although  the  children  of  lady  Catherine  Grey,  countess  of 


436  THE  COURT  OF 

V 

Hertford,  obviously  stood  before  him  in  this  line  of  succession; 
occasion  was  taken  by  the  Romish  party  from  this  descent  to 
urge  him  to  assume  the  title  of  king  of  England.  One  Hesket, 
a  zealous  agent  of  the  Jesuits  and  popish  fugitives,  was  em- 
ployed to  tamper  with  the  earl,  who  on  one  hand  undertook  that 
his  claim  should  be  supported  by  powerful  succours  from  abroad, 
and  on  the  other  menaced  him  with  certain  and  speedy  death  in 
case  of  his  rejecting  the  proposal  or  betraying  its  authors.  But 
the  earl  was  too  loyal  to  hesitate  a  moment.  He  revealed  the 
whole  plot  to  government,  and  Hesket  on  his  information  was 
convicted  of  treason  and  suffered  death.  Not  long  after,  the 
earl  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  violent  disorder  of  the  bowels, 
which  in  a  few  days  carried  him  off ;  and  on  the  first  day  of  his 
illness,  his  gentleman  of  the  horse  took  his  lord's  best  saddle- 
horse  and  fled.  These  circumstances  might  be  thought  pretty 
clearly  to  indicate  poison  as  the  means  of  his  untimely  end  ;  but 
although  a  suspicion  of  its  employment  was  entertained  by  some, 
the  melancholy  event  appears  to  have  been  more  generally  as- 
cribed to  witchcraft.  An  examination  being  instituted,  a  waxen 
image  was  discovered  in  his  chamber  with  a  hair  of  the  colour  of 
the  earl's  drawn  through  the  body ;  also,  an  old  woman  in  the 
neighbourhood,  a  reputed  witch,  being  required  to  recite  after  a 
prompter  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  Latin,  was  observed  to  blunder 
repeatedly  in  the  same  words.  But  these  circumstances,  how- 
ever strong,  not  being  deemed  absolutely  conclusive,  the  poor 
old  woman  was  apparently  suffered  to  escape  : — after  the  gen- 
tleman of  the  horse,  or  his  instigators,  we  do  not  find  that  any 
search  was  made. 

The  mother  of  this  earl  of  Derby  died  two  years  after.  At 
one  period  of  her  life  we  find  her  much  in  favour  with  the  queen, 
whom  she  was  accustomed  to  attend  in  quality  of  first  lady  of 
the  blood  royal;  but  she  had  subsequently  excited  her  majesty's 
suspicions  by  her  imprudent  consultations  of  fortune-tellers  and 
diviners,  on  the  delicate  subject,  doubtless,  of  succession  to  the 
crown. 

The  animosity  between  Elizabeth  and  her  savage  adversary 
the  king  of  Spain,  was  continually  becoming  more  fierce  and 
more  inveterate.  Undeterred  by  former  failures,  Philip  was 
thought  to  meditate  a  fresh  invasion  either  of  England  or  of  Ire- 
land,- which  latter  country  was  besides  in  so  turbulent  a  state 
from  the  insurrections  of  native  chieftans,  that  it  had  been  found 
necessary  to  send  over  sir  John  Norris,  as  general  of  Ulster, 
with  a  strong  reinforcement  of  veterans  from  the  Low  Coun- 
tries. The  queen,  on  her  part,  was  well  prepared  to  resist  and 
retaliate  all  attacks.  The  spirit  of  the  nation  was  thoroughly 
roused ;  gallant  troops  and  able  officers  formed  in  the  Flemish 
school  of  glory,  or  under  the  banners  of  the  Bourbon  hero,  burn- 
ed with  impatience  for  the  signal  to  revenge  the  wrongs  of  their 
queen  and  country,  on  their  capital  and  most  detested  enemy. 
Still  the  conflict  threatened  to  be  an  arduous  one:  Elizabeth 
felt  all  its  difficulties;  and  loth  to  lose  the  support  of  one  of  her 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


437 


bravest  and  most  popular  captains,  she  addressed  the  following 
letter  of  recall  to  lord  Willoughby,  who  had  repaired  to  Spa 
ostensibly  for  the  recovery  of  his  health  ;  really,  perhaps,  in  re- 
sentment of  some  injury  inflicted  by  a  venal  and  treacherous 
court,  of  which  his  noble  nature  scorned  alike  the  intrigues  and 
the  servility. 

"  Good  Peregrine, 
"  We  are  not  a  little  glad  that  by  your  journey  you  have 
received  such  good  fruit  of  amendment,  especially  when  we  con- 
sider how  great  a  vexation  it  is  to  a  mind  devoted  to  actions  of 
honour,  to  be  restrained  by  any  indisposition  of  body  from  fol- 
lowing those  courses  which,  to  your  own  reputation  and  our 
great  satisfaction,  you  have  formerly  performed.  And  therefore 
we  must  now  (out  of  our  desire  of  your  well-doing)  chiefly  en- 
join you  to  an  especial  care  to  encrease  and  continue  your  health, 
which  must  give  life  to  all  your  best  endeavours;  so  we  next  as 
seriously  recommend  to  you  this  consideration,  that  in  these 
times,  when  there  is  such  an  appearance  that  we  shall  have  the 
trial  of  our  best  and  noble  subjects,  you  seem  not  to  affect  the 
satisfaction  of  your  own  private  contentation,  beyond  the  at- 
tending on  that  which  nature  and  duty  challengeth  from  all  per- 
sons of  your  quality  and  profession.  For  if  unnecessarily,  your 
health  of  body  being  recovered,  you  should  eloign  yourself  by 
residence  there  from  those  employments  whereof  we  shall  have 
too  good  store,  you  shall  not  so  much  amend  the  state  of  your 
body,  as  haply  you  shall  call  in  question  the  reputation  of  your 
mind  and  judgment,  even  in  the  opinion  of  those  that  love  you, 
and  are  best  acquainted  with  your  disposition  and  discretion." 

"  Interpret  this  our  plainness,  we  pray  you,  to  an  extraordi- 
nary estimation  of  you,  for  it  is  not  common  with  us  to  deal  so 
freely  with  many;  and  believe  that  you  shall  ever  find  us  both 
ready  and  willing,  on  all  occasions,  to  yield  you  the  fruits  of 
that  interest  which  your  endeavours  have  purchased  for  you  in 
our  opinion  and  estimation.  Not  doubting  but  when  you  have 
with  moderation  made  trial  of  the  successes  of  these  your  sun 
dry  peregrinations,  you  will  find  aa  great  comfort  to  spend  your 
days  at  home  as  heretofore  you  have  done;  of  which  we  do  wish 
you  full  measure,  howsoever  you  shall  have  cause  of  abode  or 
return.  Given  under  our  signet  at  our  manor  of  Nonesuch,  the 
7th  of  October  1594,  in  the  37th  year  of  our  reign. 

"  Your  most  loving  sovereign, 

"  E.  R." 

We  do  not  perceive  the  effects  of  this  letter  in  the  employ 
ment  of  lord  Willoughby  in  any  of  the  expeditions  against 
Spain  which  ensued  ;  but  he  was  afterwards  appointed  gover- 
nor of  Berwick,  and  held  that  situation  till  his  death  in  1601. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  that  splendid  genius  with  a  sordid  soul, 
whom  a  romantic  spirit  of  adventure  and  a  devouring  thirst  of 
gain  equally  stimulated  to  activity,  had  unexpectedly  found  his 


438 


TftE  COURT  OF 


advancement  at  court  impeded,  after  the  first  steps,  usually  ac- 
counted the  most  difficult,  had  been  speedily  and  fortunately 
surmounted.  Several  conspiring  causes  might  however  be  as- 
signed for  this  check  in  his  career  of  fortune.  His  high  preten- 
sions to  the  favour  of  the  queen,  joined  to  his  open  adherence  to 
the  party  of  sir  Robert  Cecil,  had  provoked  the  hostility  of  Es- 
sex;  who,  in  defiance  of  him,  at  one  of  the  ostentatious  tourna- 
ments of  the  day,  is  said  to  have  "  filled  the  tilt-yard  with  two 
thousand  orange-tawny  Feathers,"  the  distinction  doubtless  of 
his  followers  and  retainers.  He  had  incurred  the  resentment  of 
more  than  one  of  the  order  of  bishops,  by  his  ceaseless  and 
shameless  solicitations  of  grants  and  leases  out  of  the  property 
of  the  Church.  In  Ireland,  he  had  rendered  Sir  William  Rus- 
sell the  lord  deputy,  his  enemy,  by  various  demonstrations  of 
opposition  and  rivalry ;  at  court,  his  abilities  and  his  first  rapid 
successes  with  her  majesty,  had  stirred  up  against  him  the  envy 
of  a  whole  host  of  competitors.  Elizabeth,  who  for  the  best  rea- 
sons, had  an  extreme  dislike  to  any  manifestations  of  a  mercenary 
disposition  in  her  servants,  had  been  disgusted  by  the  frequency 
and  earnestness  of  his  petitions  for  pecuniary  favours.  "  When, 
sir  Walter,"  she  had  once  exclaimed,  "  will  you  cease  to  be  a 
beggar?"  He  replied,  "When  your  gracious  majesty  ceases  to 
be  a  benefactor."  So  dexterous  an  answer  appeased  her  for  a 
time;  and  the  profusion  of  eloquent  adulation  with  which  he 
never  failed  to  soothe  her  ear,  engaged  her  self-love  strongly  in 
his  behalf.  But  to  complete  the  ill-fortune  of  Raleigh,  father 
Parsons,  provoked  by  the  earnestness  with  which  he  had  urged 
in  parliament  the  granting  of  supplies  for  a  war  offensive  and 
defensive  against  Spain,  had  published  a  pamphlet  charging  him 
with  atheism  and  impiety,  which  had  not  only  found  welcome 
reception  with  his  enemies,  but  with  the  people,  to  whom  he 
was  ever  obnoxious,  and  had  even  raised  a  prejudice  against 
him  in  the  mind  of  his  sovereign.  On  this  subject,  a  writer  con- 
temporary with  the  later  years  of  Raleigh,  thus  expresses  him- 
self: 

"  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  the  first,  as  I  have  heard,  that  ven- 
tured to  tack  about  and  sail  aloof  from  the  beaten  track  of  the 
schools ;  who,  upon  the  discovery  of  so  apparent  an  error  as  a 
torrid  zone,  intended  to  proceed  in  an  inquisition  after  more 
solid  truths ;  till  the  mediation  of  some  whose  livelihood  lay  in 
hammering  shrines  for  this  superannuated  study,  possessed 
queen  Elizabeth  that  such  doctrine  was  against  God  no  less 
than  her  father's  honour ;  whose  faith,  if  he  owed  any,  was 
grounded  upon  school  divinity.  Whereupon  she  chid  him,  who 
was,  by  his  own  confession,  ever  after  branded  with  the  name  of 
an  atheist,  though  a  known  assertor  of  God  and  providence."* 

The  business  of  Mrs.  Throgmorton,  and  the  disputes  arising 
out  of  the  sale  of  the  captured  carrack,  succeeded,  to  inflame 
still  more  the  ill-humour  of  the  queen;  and  Raleigh,  finding 

*  Osborne's  '*  Introduction"  to  his  Essays. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


439 


every  thing  adverse  to  him  at  court,  resolved  to  quit  the  scene 
for  a  time,  in  the  hope  of  returning  with  better  omens,  when  ab- 
sence and  dangers  should  again  have  endeared  him  to  his  of- 
fended mistress,  and  when  the  splendour  of  his  foreign  successes 
might  enable  him  to  impose  silence  on  the  clamours  of  malignity 
at  home. 

The  interior  of  the  patldess  wilds  of  Guiana  had  been  report 
ed  to  abound  in  those  exhaustless  mines  of  the  precious  metals 
which  filled  the  imaginations  of  the  earliest  explorers  of  the 
New  World,  and,  to  their  ignorant  cupidity,  appeared  the  only 
important  object  of  research  and  acquisition  in  regions  where  the 
eye  of  political  wisdom  would  have  discerned  so  many  superior 
inducements  to  colonization  or  to  conquest.  The  fabulous  city 
of  El  Dorado, — which  became  for  some  time  proverbial  in  our 
language  to  express  the  utmost  profusion  and  magnificence  of 
wealth, — was  placed  by  the  romautic  narrations  of  voyagers 
somewhere  in  the  centre  of  this  vast  country,  and  nothing  could 
be  more  flattering  to  the  mania  of  the  age,  than  the  project  of 
exploring  its  hidden  treasures.  Raleigh  conceived  this  idea; 
the  court  and  the  city  vied  in  eagerness  to  share  the  profits  of 
the  enterprise;  a  squadron  was  speedily  fitted  out,  though  at 
great  expense;  and  in  February  1595,  the  ardent  leader  weigh- 
ed anchor  from  the  English  shore.  Proceeding  first  to  Trinidad, 
he  possessed  himself  of  the  town  of  St.  Joseph  ;  then,  with  the 
numerous  pinnaces  of  his  fleet,  he  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
great  river  Oronoco,  and  sailing  upwards,  penetrated  far  into 
the* bosom  of  the  country.  But  the  intense  heat  of  the  climate, 
and  the  difficulties  of  this  unknown  navigation,  compelled  him 
to  return  without  any  more  valuable  result  of  his  enterprise  than 
that  of  taking  formal  possession  of  the  land  in  her  majesty's 
name.  Raleigh  however,  unwilling  to  acknowledge  a  failure, 
published  on  his  return  an  account  of  Guiana,  filled  with  the 
most  disgraceful  and  extravagant  falsehood^; — falsehoods  to 
which  he  himself  became  eventually  the  victim,  when,  on  the  sole 
credit  of  his  assurances,  king  James  released  him  from  a  tedious 
imprisonment  to  head  a  second  band  of  adventurers  to  this  dis- 
astrous shore. 

A  still  more  unfortunate  result  awaited  an  expedition  of  greater 
consequence,  which  sailed  during  the  same  year,  under  Hawkins 
and  Drake,  against  the  settlements  of  Spanish  America.  Re- 
peated attacks  had  at  length  taught  the  Spaniards  to  stand  on 
their  defence;  and  the  English  were  first  repulsed  from  Porto 
Rico,  and  afterwards  obliged  to  relinquish  the  attempt  of  march- 
ing across  the  isthmus  of  Darien  to  Panama.  But  the  great  and 
irreparable  misfortune  of  the  enterprise  was  the  loss,  first  of  the 
gallant  sir  John  Hawkins,  the  kinsman  and  early  patron  of  Drake, 
and  afterwards  of  that  great  navigator  himself,  who  fell  a  victim 
to  the  torrid  climate,  and  to  fatigue  and  mortification  which 
conspired  to  render  it  fatal.  A  person  of  such  eminence,  and 
whose  great  actions  reflect  back^o  bright  a  lustre  on  the  reign 
which  had  furnished  to  him  the  most  glorious  occasions  of  dis~ 


440 


THE  COURT  OF 


tinguishing  himself  in  the  service  of  his  country,  must  not  be 
dismissed  from  the  scene  in  silence. 

•  The  character  of  Francis  Drake  was  remarkable  not  alone  for 
those  constitutional  qualities  of  valour,  industry,  capacity  and 
enterprise,  which  the  history  of  his  exploits  would  necessarily 
lead  us  to  infer,  but  for  virtues  founded  on  principle  and  reflec- 
tion which  render  it  in  a  high  degree  the  object  of  respect  and 
moral  approbation.  It  is  true  that  his  aggressions  on  the  Span- 
ish settlements  were  originally  founded  on  a  vague  notion  of  re- 
prisals, equally  irreconcilable  to  public  law  and  private  equity. 
But  with  the  exception  of  this  error, — which  may  find  consider- 
able palliation  in  the  deficient  education  of  the  man,  the  preva- 
lent opinions  of  the  day,  and  the  peculiar  animosity  against 
Philip  II.  cherished  in  the  bosom  of  every  protestant  English- 
man,— the  conduct  of  Drake  appears  to  demand  almost  unquali- 
fied commendation.  It  was  by  sobriety,  by  diligence  in  the  con- 
cerns of  his  employers,  and  by  a  tried  integrity,  that  he  early 
raised  himself  from  the  humble  station  of  an  ordinary  seaman 
to  the  command  of  a  vessel.  When  placed  in  authority  over 
x>thers,  he  showed  himself  humane  and  considerate ;  his  treat- 
ment of  his  prisoners  was  exemplary,  his  veracity  unimpeached, 
his  private  life  religiously  pure  and  spotless.  In  the  division 
of  the  rich  booty  which  often  rewarded  his  valour  and  his  toils, 
he  was  liberal  towards  his  crews,  and  scrupulously  just  to  the 
owners  of  his  vessels  ;  and  in  the  appropriation  of  his  own  share 
of  wealth,  he  displayed  that  munificence  towards  the  public  of 
which,  since  the  days  of  Roman  glory,  history  has  recorded  so 
few  examples. 

With  the  profits  of  one  of  his  earliest  voyages,  in  which  he 
captured  the  town  of  Venta  Cruz  and  made  a  prize  of  a  string 
of  fifty  mules  laden  with  silver,  he  fitted  out  three  stout  frigates 
and  sailed  with  them  to  Ireland,  where  he  served  as  a  volunteer 
under  Walter  eaqfc  of  Essex,  and  performed  many  brilliant  ac- 
tions. After  the  capture  of  a  rich  Spanish  carrack  at  the  Ter- 
ceras  in  1587,  he  undertook  at  his  own  expense  to  bring  to  the 
town  of  Plymouth,  which  he  represented  in  parliament,  a  supply 
of  spring  water,  of  which  necessary  article  it  suffered  a  great 
deficiency;  this  he  accomplished  by  means  of  a  canal  or  aque- 
duct above  twenty  miles  in  length. 

Drake  incurred  some  blame  in  the  expedition  to  Portugal  for 
failing  to  bring  his  ships  up  the  river  to  Lisbon,  according  to  his 
promise  to  sir  John  Norris,  the  general ;  but  on  explaining  the 
case  before  the  privy-council  on  his  return,  he  was  entirely  ac- 
quitted by  them  :  having  made  it  appear  that,  under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, to  have  carried  the  fleet  up  the  Tagus  would  have 
been  to  expose  it  to  damage  without  the  possibility  of  any  bene- 
fit to*  the  service.  By  his  enemies,  this  great  man  was  stigma- 
tised as  vain  and  boastful ;  a  slight  infirmity  in  one  who  had 
achieved  so  much  by  his  own  unassisted  genius,  and  which  the 
great  flow  of  natural  eloquence  \*hich  he  possessed,  may  at  once 
have  produced  and  rendered  excusable.    One  trait  appears  to 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


441 


inliralc  that  he  was  ambitious  of  a  species  of  distinction  whicli 
he  might  have  regarded  himself  as  entitled  to  despise.  He  had 
thought  j  roper  to  assume,  apparently  without  due  authority,  the 
armorial  coat  of  sir  Bernard  Drake,  also  a  seaman  and  a  native 
of  Devonshire  ;  sir  Bernard,  from  a  false  pride  of  family,  highly 
resented  this  unwarrantable  intrusion,  as  he  regarded  it,  and  in 
a  dispute  on  the  subject  gave  sir  Francis  a  box  on  the  ear.  The 
queen  now  deemed  it  necessary  to  interfere,  and  she  granted  to 
the  illustrious  navigator  the  following  arms  of  her  own  device. 
Sable,  a  fess  wavy  between  two  pole  stars  argent,  and  for  crest, 
a  ship  on  a  globe  under  ruff,  with  a  cable  held  by  a  hand  coming- 
out  of  the  clouds  ;  the  motto  Jluxilio  divino,  and  beneath,  Sic 
parvis  magna;  in  the  rigging  of  the  ship  a  wivern  gules,  the 
arms,  of  sir  Bernard  Drake,  hung  up  by  the  heels. 

Sir  John  Baskerville,-who  succeeded  by  the  death  of  Drake  to 
the  command  of  the  unfortunate  expedition  to  which  he  had 
fallen  a  sacrifice,  encountered  the  Spanish  fleet  off  Cuba  in  an 
action,  which,  though  less  decisive  on  the  English  side  than  might 
have  been  hoped,  left  at  least  no  ground  of  triumph  to  the  enemy. 
Meantime  the  court  was  by  no  means  barren  of  incident :  and 
we  are  fortunpte  in  possessing  a  minute  and  authentic  journal 
of  its  transactions  in  a  serious  of  letters  addressed  to  sir  Robert 
Sidney  governor  of  Flushing,  by  several  of  his  friends,  but  chiefly 
by  Rowland  Whyte,  a  gentleman  to  whom,  during  his  absence, 
he  had  recommended  the  care  of  his  interests,  and  the  task  of 
transmitting  to  him  whatever  intelligence  might  appear  either 
useful  or  entertaining.* 

In  October  1595,  Mr.  Whyte  mentions  the  following  abomina- 
ble instance  of  tyranny.  That  the  earl  of  Hertford  had  been 
sent  for  by  a  messenger  and  committed  to  custody  in  his  own 
house,  because  it  had  appeared  by  a  case  found  among  the  papers 
of  a  Dr.  Aubrey,  that  he  had  formerly  taken  the  opinions  of 
civilians  on  the  validity  of  his  first  marriage,  and  caused  a  re- 
cord of  it  to  be  secretly  put  into  the  court  of  Arches.  Whyte 
adds  significantly,  that  the  earl  wras  accounted  one  of  the  wealthi- 
est subjects  in  England.  Soon  after,  his  lordship  was  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower  ;  and  it  was  said  that  orders  were  given 
that  his  son,  who,  since  the  establishment  of  the  marriage  had 
borne  the  title  of  lord  Beauchamp,  should  henceforth  be  again 
called  Mr.  Seymour.  Several  lawyers  and  other  persons  were 
also  imprisoned  for  a  short  time  about  this  matter,  under  what 
law,  or  pretext  of  law,  it  would  be  vain  to  inquire.  Lady  Hert- 
ford, though  a  sister  of  the  lord  admiral  and  nearly  related  to 
the  queen,  was  for  some  time  an  unsuccessful  suitor  at  court  for 
the  liberty  of  her  lord.  Her  majesty  however  was  graciously 
pleased  to  declare  that  "  neither  his  life  nor  living  should  be 
called  in  question — as  if  both  had  been  at  her  mercy :  and 
though  she  would  not  consent  to  see  the  countess,  she  regularly 
sent  her  broths  m  a  morning,  and,  at  meals,  meat  from  her  own 


See  Sidney's  Papers,  passim. 
3K 


442 


THE  COURT  OF 


trencher ; — affecting,  it  should  seem,  in  these  trifles,  to  acquit 
herself  of  the  promises  of  her  special  favour,  with  which  she  had 
a  few  years  before  repaid  the  splendid  hospitality  of  this  noble 
pair.  We  do  not  learn  how  long  the  durance  of  the  earl  con- 
tinued ;  but  it  is  highly  probable  that  he  was  once  more  com- 
pelled to  purchase  his  liberty. 

Great  uneasiness  was  given  about  this  time  to  the  earl  of  Es- 
sex by  a  book  written  in  defence  of  the  king  of  Spain's  title  to 
the  English  crown,  which  contained  "  dangerous  praises  of  his 
valour  and  worthiness,"  inserted  for  the  express  purpose  of  ex- 
citing the  jealousy  of  the  queen  and  bringing  him  into  disgrace. 

The  work  was  shown  him  by  Elizabeth  herself.  On  coming 
from  her  presence  he  was  observed  to  look  "pale  and  wan,"  and 
going  home  he  reported  himself  sick  ; — an  expedient  for  working 
on  the  feelings  of  his  sovereign,  to  which  notwithstanding  the 
truth  and  honour  popularly  regarded  as  his  characteristics,  Es- 
sex is  known  to  have  frequently  condescended.  On  this,  as  on 
most  occasions,  he  found  it  successful:  her  majesty  soon  made 
him  a  consolatory  visit ;  and  in  spite  of  the  strenuous  efforts  of 
his  enemies,  this  attempt  to  injure  him  only  served  to  augment 
her  affection  and  root  him  more  firmly  in  her  confidence. 

"Her  majesty,"  says  Whyte  soon  after,  "is  in  very  good 
health,  and  comes  much  abroad  ;  upon  Thursday  she  dined  at 
Kew,  at  my  lord  keepers  house,  (who  lately  obtained  of  her  ma- 
jesty his  suit  for  one  hundred  pounds  a  year  in  fee-farm,)  her 
entertainment  for  that  meal  was  great  and  ^exceeding  costly. 
At  her  first  'lighting  she  had  a  fine  fan  garnished  with  diamonds, 
valued  at  four  hundred  pounds  at  least.  After  dinner,  in  her 
privy  chamber  he  gave  her  a  fair  pair  of  virginals.  In  her  bed- 
chamber, he  presented  her  with  a  fine  gown  and  a  juppin,  which 
things  were  pleasing  to  her  highness  ;  and  to  grace  his  lordship 
the  more,  she  of  herself  took  from  him  a  fork,  a  spoon,  and  a 
salt  of  fair  agate."  It  must  be  confessed  that  this  was  a  mode 
of  "gracing"  a  courtier  peculiarly  consonant  to  the  disposition 
of  her  majesty. 

The  further  Elizabeth  descended  into  the  vale  of  years,  the 
stronger  were  her  efforts  to  make  ostentation  of  a  youthful 
gaiety  of  spirits  and  an  unfailing  alacrity  in  the  pursuit  of  plea- 
sure ;  though  avarice,  the  vice  of  age,  mingled  strangely  with 
these  her  juvenile  affectations.  To  remark  to  her  the  progress 
of  time,  was  to  wound  her  in  the  tenderest  part,  and  not  even 
from  her  ghostly  counsellors  wrould  she  endure  a  topic  so  offen- 
sive as  the  mention  of  her  age :  an  anecdote  to  this  effect  belongs 
to  the  year  1596,  and  is  found  in  the  account  of  Rudd  bishop 
of  St.  Davids,  given  in  Harrington's  Brief  View  of  the  Church. 

"There  is  almost  none  that  waited  in  queen  Elizabeth's 
court  and  observed  any  thing,  but  can  tell  that  it  pleased  her 
very  much  to  seem  to  be  thought,  and  to  be  told  that  she  looked 
young.  The  majesty  and  gravity  of  a  sceptre  borne  forty -four 
years  could  not  alter  that  nature  of  a  woman  in  her:  This  not- 
withstanding, this  good  bishop  being  appointed  to  preach  before 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


443 


her  in  the  Lent  of  the  year  1596  .  .  .  wishing  in  a  godly  zeal, 
as  well  became  him,  that  she  should  think  sometime  of  mor- 
tality,'' took  a  text  fit  for  the  purpose,  on  which  he  treated  for 
a  time  "  well,"  " learnedly,"  and  "respectively."  "But  when 
he  had  spoken  awhile  of  some  sacred  and  mystical  numbers,  as 
three  for  the  Trinity,  three  for  the  heavenly  Hierarchy,  seven 
for  the  Sabbath,  and  seven  times  seven  for  a  Jubilee ;  and 
lastly,— seven  times  nine  for  the  grand  climacterical  year;  she, 
perceiving  whereto  it  tended,  began  to  be  troubled  with  it.  The 
bishop  discovering  that  all  was  not  well,  for  the  pulpit  stands 
there  vis  a  vis  to  the  closet,  he  fell  to  treat  of  some  more  plausible 
numbers,  as  of  the  number  666,  making  Latinus,  with  which  he 
said  he  could  prove  the  pope  to  be  Antichrist ;  also  of  the  fatal 
number  of  88, — so  long  before  spoken  of  for  a  dangerous  year, 
....  but  withal  interlarding  it  with  some  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture that  touch  the  infirmities  of  age  ....  he  concluded  his 
sermon.  The  queen,  as  the  manner  was,  opened  the  window ; 
but  she  was  so  far  from  giving  him  thanks  or  good  countenance, 
that  she  said  plainly  he  should  have  kept  his  arithmetic  for  him- 
self. 'But  I  see,'  said  she,  'the  greatest  clerks  are  not  the 
wisest  men :'  and  so  went  away  for  the  time  discontented. 

"The  lord  keeper  Puckering,  though  reverencing  the  man 
much  in  his  particular,  yet  for  the  present,  to  assuage  the 
queen's  displeasure,  commanded  him  to  keep  his  house  for  a  time, 
which  he  did.  But  of  a  truth  her  majesty  showed  no  ill  nature 
in  this,  for  within  three  days  she  was  not  only  displeased  at  his 
restraint,  but  in  my  hearing  rebuked  a  lady  yet  living  for  speak- 
ing scornfully  of  him  and  his  sermon.  Only  to  show  how  the 
good  bishop  was  deceived  in  supposing  she  was  so  decayed  in  her 
limbs  and  senses  as  himself  perhaps  and  others  of  that  age  were 
wont  to  be ;  she  said  she  thanked  God  that  neither  her  stomach 
nor  strength,  nor  her  voice  for  singing,  nor  fingering  instru- 
ments, nor  lastly  her  sight,  was  any  whit  decayed ;  and  to  prove 
the  last  before  us  all,  she  produced  a  little  jewel  that  had  an  in- 
scription of  very  small  letters,  and  offered  it  first  to  my  lord  of 
Worcester,  and  then  to  sir  James  Crofts  to  read,  and  both  pro- 
tested bona  fide  that  they  could  not ;  yet  the  queen  herself  did 
find  out  the  poesy,  and  made  herself  merry  with  the  standers  by 
ipon  it." 

A  point  of  some  importance  to  the  peers  of  England  was  about 
this  time  brought  to  a  final  decision  by  the  following  circum- 
stance Sir  Thomas,  son  and  heir  of  sir  Matthew  Arundel  of 
Wardour-castle,  a  young  man  of  a  courageous  and  enterprising 
disposition,  going  over  to  Germany,  had  been  induced  to  engage 
as  a  volunteer  in  the  wars  of  the  emperor  against  the  Turks ; 
and  in  the  assault  of  the  city  of  Gran  in  Hungary  had  taken 
with  his  own  hand  a  Turkish  banner.  For  this  and  other  good 
service,  Rodolph  the  Second  had  been  pleased  to  confer  upon 
him  the  honour  of  count  of  the  holy  Roman  empire,  extending 
also,  as  usual,  the  title  of  counts  and  countesses  to  all  his  de- 
scendants for  ever.   On  his  return  to  England  in  the  year 


444 


THE  COURT  OF 


following,  the  question  arose  whether  this  dignity,  conferred  by 
a  foreign  prince  without  the  previous  consent  of  his  own  sove- 
reign should  entitle  the  bearer  to  rank,  precedence,  or  any  other 
privilege  in  this  country. 

The  peers  naturally  opposed  a  concession  which  tended  to 
lessen  the  value  of  their  privileges  by  rendering  them  accessible 
through  foreign  channels  ;  and  her  majesty  being  called  upon  to 
settle  the  debate,  pronounced  the  following  judgment.  That 
the  closest  tie  of  affection  subsisted  between  sovereigns  and 
their  subjects:  that  as  chaste  wives  should  fix  their  eyes  upon 
their  husbands  alone,  in  like  manner  faithful  subjects  should 
only  direct  theirs  towards  the  prince  whom  it  had  pleased  God 
to  set  over  them.  And  that  she  would  not  allow  her  sheep  to 
be  branded  With  the  mark  of  a  stranger,  or  to  be  taught  to  follow 
the  whistle  of  a  foreign  shepherd.  And  to  this  effect  she  wrote 
to  the  emperor,  who  by  a  special  letter  had  recommended  sir 
Thomas  Arundel  to  her  favour.  The  decision  appears  to  have 
been  reasonable  and  politic,  and  would  at  the  time  be  regarded 
as  peculiarly  so  in  the  instance  of  honours  conferred  on  a  ca- 
tholic gentleman  by  a  catholic  prince.  King  James,  however, 
created  sir  Thomas,  lord  Arundel  of  Wardour  ;  and  he  seems 
to  have  borne  in  common  speech  the  title  of  count.* 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


1595  to  1598. 

Essex  and  Cecil  factions. — Expedition  to  Cadiz. — Robert  Cecil 
appointed  secretary. — Notice  of  sir  T.  Bodley. — Critical  situ- 
ation of  Essex. — Francis  Bacon  addresses  to  him  a  letter  of 
advice — composes  speeches  for  him. — Notice  of  Toby  Mattheiv. 
— Outrages  in  London  repressed  by  martial  law. — Death  of 
lord  Hunsdon — of  the  earl  of  Huntingdon — of  Bishop  Fletcher. 
— Anecdote  of  bishop  Vaughan. — Book  on  the  queen's  touching 
for  the  evil. 

From  this  period  nearly  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  her 
court  exhibited  a  scene  of  perpetual  contest  between  the  faction 
of  the  earl  of  Essex  and  that  of  lord  Burleigh,  or  rather  of  Ro- 
bert Cecil ;  and  so  widely  did  the  effects  of  this  intestine  division 
extend,  that  there  was  perhaps  scarcely  a  single  court  attendant 
or  public  functionary  whose  interests  did  not  become  in  some 

*  Camden's  Annals.    Peerage  by  sir  E.  Brydgea. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


445 


moile  or  other  involved  in  the  debate.  Yet  the  quarrel  itself 
may  justly  be  regarded  as  base  and  contemptible  :  no  public 
principle  was  here  at  stake;  whether  religious,  as  in  the 
struggles  between  papists  and  protestants  which  often  rent  the 
cabinet  of  Henry  VIlLj  or  civil,  as  in  those  of  whigs  and  tories 
by  which  the  administrations  of  later  times  have  been  divided 
and  overthrown.  It  was  simply  and  without  disguise  a  strife 
between  individuals,  for  the  exclusive  possession  of  that  political 
power  and  court  influence  of  which  each  might  without  distur- 
bance have  enjoyed  a  share  capable  of  contenting  an  ordinary 
ambition. 

In  religion,  there  was  apparently  no  shade  of  difference  be- 
tween the  hostile  leaders ;  neither  of  them  had  studied  with  so 
little  diligence  the  inclinations  of  the  queen,  as  to  persist  at  this 
time  in  the  patronage  of  the  puritans,  though  the  early  impres- 
sions, certainly  of  Essex,  and  probably  of  sir  Robert  Cecil  also, 
must  have  been  considerably  in  favour  of  this  persecuted  sect. 
Still  less  would  either  venture  to  stand  forth  the  advocate  of  the 
catholics;  though  it  was  among  the  most  daring  and  desperate 
of  this  body  that  Essex  was  compelled  at  length  to  seek  adhe- 
rents, when  the  total  ruin  of  his  interest  with  his  sovereign  fa- 
tally compelled  him  to  exchange  the  character  of  head  of  a  court 
party  for  that  of  a  conspirator  and  a  rebel.  Of  the  title  of  the 
king  of  Scots  both  were  steady  supporters ;  and  first  Essex,  and 
afterwards  Cecil,  maintained  a  secret  correspondence  with 
James,  who  flattered  each  in  his  turn  with  assurances  of  present 
friendship  and  future  favour. 

On  one  public  question  alone  of  any  considerable  magnitude 
do  the  rivals  appear  to  have  been  at  issue  ; — that  of  the  prose- 
cution of  an  offensive  war  against  Spain. 

The  age  and  the  wisdom  of  lord  Burleigh  alike  inclined  him  to 
a  pacific  policy ;  and  though  Robert  Cecil,  for  the  purpose  of 
strengthening  himself  and  weakening  his  opponent,  would  fre- 
quently act  the  patron  towards  particular  officers, — those  es- 
pecially of  whom  he  observed  the  earl  to  entertain  a  jealousy, 
— it  is  certain  that  warlike  ardour  made  no  part  of  his  natural 
composition.  Essex  on  the  contrary  was  all  on  fire  for  military 
glory ;  and  at  this  time  he  was  urging  the  queen  with  unceasing 
importunities  to  make  a  fresh  attack  upon  her  capital  enemy  in 
the  heart  of  his  European  dominions.  In  this  favourite  object, 
after  encountering  considerable  opposition  from  her  habits  of 
procrastination  and  from  some  remaining  fears  and  scruples,  he 
succeeded ;  and  the  zeal  of  the  people  hastening  to  give  full 
effect  to  the  designs  of  her  majesty,  a  formidable  armament  was 
fitted  out  in  all  diligence,  which  in  June  1596  set  sail  for  Cadiz. 

Lord  Howard  of  Effingham,  as  lord  admiral,  commanded  the 
fleet ;  Essex  himself  received  with  transport  the  appointment  of 
general  of  all  the  land-forces,  and  spared  neither  pains  nor  cost 
in  his  preparations  for  the  enterprise.  Besides  his  constant  ea- 
gerness for  action,  his  spirit  was  on  this  occasion  inflamed  by  an 
indignation  against  the  tyrant  Philip,  "  which  rose,"  according 


446 


THE  COURT  OF 


to  the  happy  expression  of  one  of  his  biographers,  "to  the  dig- 
nity of  a  personal  aversion."*  In  his  letters  he  was  wont  to 
employ  the  expression,  "  I  will  make  that  proud  king  know," 
&c. :  a  phrase,  it  seems,  which  gave  high  offence  to  Elizabeth, 
who  could  not  tolerate  what  she  regarded  as  arrogance  against 
a  crowned  head,  though  her  bitterest  foe. 

Subordinate  commands  were  given  to  Lord  Thomas  Howard, 
second  son  of  the  late  duke  of  Norfolk,  who  was  at  this  time  in- 
clined to  the  party  of  Essex  ;  to  Raleigh,  who  now  affected  an 
extraordinary  deference  for  the  earl,  his  secret  enemy  and  rival; 
to  that  very  able  officer  sir  Francis  Vere  of  the  family  of  the 
earls  of  Oxford,  who  had  highly  distinguished  himself  during 
several  years  in  the  wars  of  the  Low  Countries  ;  to  sir  George 
Carew,  an  intimate  friend  of  sir  Robert  Cecil ;  and  to  some 
others,  who  formed  together  a  council  of  war. 

The  queen  herself  composed  on  this  occasion  a  prayer  for  the 
use  of  the  fleet,  and  she  sent  to  her  land  and  her  sea  commander 
jointly  "  a  letter  of  license  to  depart ;  besides  comfortable  en- 
couragement." "But  ours  in  particular,"  adds  a  follower  of 
Essex,  "  had  one  fraught  with  all  kind  of  promises  and  loving 
offers,  as  the  like,  since  he  was  a  favourite  he  never  had." 

Enterprise  was  certainly  not  the  characteristic  of  the  lord  ad- 
miral as  a  commander ;  and  when  on  the  arrival  of  the  arma- 
ment off  Cadiz,  it  was  proposed  that  an  attack  should  be  made 
by  the  fleet  on  the  ships  in  the  harbour,  he  remonstrated  against 
the  rashness  of  such  an  attempt,  and  prevailed  on  several  mem- 
bers of  the  council  of  war  to  concur  in  his  objections.  In  the 
end,  however,  the  arguments  or  importuuities  of  the  more  daring 
party  prevailed ;  and  Essex  threw  his  hat  into  the  sea  in  a  wild 
transport  of  joy  on  learning  that  the  admiral  consented  to  make 
the  attack.  He  was  now  acquainted  by  the  admiral  with  the 
queen's  secret  order,  dictated  by  her  tender  care  for  the  safety 
of  her  young  favourite, — that  he  should  by  no  means  be  allowed 
to  lead  the  assault ; — and  he  promised  an  exact  obedience  to  the 
mortifying  prohibition.  But,  once  in  presence  of  the  enemy, 
his  impetuosity  would  brook  no  control.  He  broke  from  the 
station  of  inglorious  security  which  had  been  assigned  him,  and 
rushed  into  the  heat  of  the  action. 

The  Spanish  fleet  was  speedily  driven  up  the  harbour,  under 
the  guns  of  the  fort  of  Puntal,  where  the  admiral's  ship  and  ano- 
ther first-rate  were  set  on  fire  by  their  own  crews,  and  the  rest 
run  aground.  Uf  these,  two  fine  ships  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
English ;  and  the  lord  admiral  haviug  refused  to  accept  of  any 
ransom  for  the  remainder,  saying  that  he  came  to  consume  and 
not  to  compound,  they  were  all,  to  the  number  of  fifty,  burned 
by  the  Spanish  admiral. 

Meantime,  Essex  landed  his  men  and  marched  them  to  the 
assault  of  Cadiz.  The  town  was  on  this  side  well  fortified,  and 
Ike  defenders,  having  also  the  advantage  of  the  ground,  receiv 

"  See  a  Catalogue  of  Royal  and  Noble  authors,  by  Lord  Orford. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


447 


oil  the  invaders  so  warmly,  1hat  they  were  on  the  point  of  being 
repulsed  from  the  gate  against  which  they  had  directed  their  at- 
tack: but  Essex,  just  at  the  critical  moment,  rushed  forward, 
seized  his  own  colours  and  threw  them  over  the  wall ;  "giving 
withal  a  most  hot  assault  unto  the  gate,  where,  to  save  the 
honour  of  their  ensign,  happy  was  he  that  could  first  leap  down 
from  the  wall,  and  with  shot  and  sword  make  way  through  the 
thickest  press  of  the  enemy." 

The  town  being  thus  stormed,  was  of  course  given  up  to  plun- 
der ;  but  Essex,  whose  humanity  was  not  less  conspicuous  than 
his  courage,  put  an  immediate  stop  to  the  carnage  by  a  vigorous 
exertion  of  his  authority;  protected  in  person  the  women,  chil- 
dren, and  religious,  whom  he  caused  to  retire  to  a  place  of 
safety;  caused  the  prisoners  to  be  treated  with  the  utmost  ten- 
derness; and  allowed  all  the  citizens  to  withdraw,  on  payment 
of  a  ransom,  before  the  place  with  its  fortifications  was  commit- 
ted to  the  flames.  It  was  indeed  the  wish  and  intention  of  Es- 
sex to  have  kept  possession  of  Cadiz;  which  he  confidently  en- 
gaged to  the  council  of  war  to  hold  out  against  the  Spaniards, 
with  a  force  of  no  more  than  three  or  four  thousand  men,  till 
succours  could  be  sent  from  England  ;  and  with  this  view  lie  had 
in  the  first  instance  sedulously  preserved  the  buildings  from  all 
injury.  But  among  his  brother  officers  few  were  found  prepared 
to  second  his  zeal :  the  expedition  was  in  great  measure  an  ad- 
venture undertaken  at  the  expense  of  private  persons,  who  en- 
gaged  in  it  with  the  hope  of  gain  rather  than  glory ;  and  as  these 
men  probably  attributed  the  success  which  had  hitherto  crowned 
their  arms  in  great  measure  to  the  surprise  of  the  Spaniards, 
they  were  unwilling  to  risk  in  a  more  deliberate  contest  the  rich 
rewards  of  valour  of  which  they  had  possessed  themselves. 

The  subsequent  proposals  of  Essex  for  the  annoyance  of  the 
enemy,  either  by  an  attack  on  Corunna,  or  on  St.  Sebastian  and 
St.  Andero,  or  by  sailing  to  the  Azores  in  quest  of  the  home- 
ward-bound carracks,  all  experienced  the  same  mortifying  nega- 
tive from  the  members  of  the  council  of  war,  of  whom  lord 
Thomas  Howard  alone  supported  his  opinions.  But  undeterred 
by  this  systematic  opposition,  he  persevered  in  urging,  that 
more  might  and  more  ought  to  be  performed  by  so  considerable 
an  armament;  and  the  lord  admiral,  weary  of  contesting  the 
matter,  sailed  away  at  length  and  left  him  on  the  Spanish  coast 
with  the  few  ships  and  the  handful  of  men  which  still  adhered 
to  him.  Want  of  provisions  compelled  him  in  a  short  time  to 
abandon  an  enterprise  now  desperate;  and  he  returned  full  of 
indignation  to  England,  where  fresh  struggles  and  new  mortifi- 
cations awaited  him.  The  appointment  during  his  absence  of 
Robert  Cecil  to  the  office  of  secretary  of  state,  instead  of  Tho- 
mas Bodley,  afterwards  the  founder  of  the  library  which  pre- 
serves his  name, — for  whom,  since  he  had  found  the  restoration 
of  Davison  hopeless,  Essex  had  been  straining  everv  nerve  to 
procure  it, — gave  him  ample  warning  of  all  the  counteraction  on 
other  points  which  he  wa9  doomed  to  experience ;  and  was  in 


448 


THE  COURT  OF 


fact  the  circumstance  which  finally  established  the  ascendency 
of  his  adversaries  :  yet  to  an  impartial  eye,  many  considerations 
may  appear  to  have  entirely  justified  on  the  part  of  the  queen 
this  preference.  Where,  it  might  be  asked,  could  a  fitter  suc- 
cessor be  found  to  lord  Burleigh  in  the  post  which  he  had  so 
long  filled  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  sovereign  and  the  benefit  of 
his  country,  than  in  the  son  who  certainly  inherited  all  his  abi- 
lity ; — though  not,  as  was  afterwards  seen,  his  principles  or  his 
virtues  ; — and  who  had  been  trained  to  business  as  the  assistant 
of  his  father  and  under  his  immediate  inspection?  Why  should 
the  earl  of  Essex  interfere  with  an  order  of  things  so  natural? 
On  what  pretext  should  the  queen  be  induced  to  disappoint  the 
hopes  of  her  old  and  faithful  servant,  and  to  cast  a  stigma  upon 
a  young  man  of  the  most  premising  talents,  who  was  unwearied 
in  his  efforts  to  establish  himself  in  her  favour  ? 

By  the  queen  and  the  people,  Essex,  their  common  favourite, 
was  welcomed,  on  his  safe  return  from  an  expedition  to  himself 
so  glorious,  with  every  demonstration  of  joy  and  affection,  and 
no  one  appeared  to  sympathise  more  cordially  than  her  majesty 
in  his  indignation  that  nothing  had  been  attempted  against  the 
Spanish  treasure -sir ps.  On  the  other  hand,  no  pains  were 
spared  by  his  adversaries  to  lessen  in  public  estimation  the  glory 
of  his  exploits,  by  ascribing  to  the  naval  commanders  a  princi- 
pal share  in  the  success  at  Cadiz,  which  he  accounted  all  his 
own.  An  anonymous  narrative  of  the  expedition  which  he  had 
prepared,  was  suppressed  by  means  of  a  general  prohibition  to 
the  printers  of  publishing  any  thing  whatsoever  relating  to  that 
business;  and  no  other  resource  was  left  him  than  the  imperfect 
one  of  dispersing  copies  in  manuscript.  It  was  suggested  to  the 
queen  by  some  about  her,  that  though  the  treasure-ships  had  es- 
caped her,  she  might  at  least  reimburse  herself  for  the  expenses 
incurred  out  of  the  rich  spoils  taken  at  Cadiz;  and  no  sooner 
had  this  project  gained  possession  of  her  mind,  than  she  began 
to  quarrel  with  Essex  for  his  lavish  distribution  of  prize  money. 
She  insisted  that  the  commanders  should  resign  to  her  a  large 
share  of  their  gains ;  and  she  had  even  the  meanness  to  cause 
the  private  soldiers  and  sailors  to  be  searched  before  they 
quitted  the  ships,  that  the  value  of  the  money  or  other  booty 
of  which  they  had  possessed  themselves  might  be  deducted 
from  their  pay.  Her  first  feelings  of  displeasure  and  disap- 
pointment over,  the  rank  and  reputation  of  the  officers  concern- 
ed, and  especially  the  brilliancy  of  the  actual  success,  were  al- 
lowed to  cover  all  faults.  The  influence  of  her  kinsman  the 
lord  admiral,  over  the  mind  of  the  queen,  was  one  which  daily 
increased  in  strength  with  her  advance  in  age, — according  to  a 
common  remark  respecting  family  attachments ;  and  it  will  ap- 
pear that  he  finally  triumphed  so  completely  over  the  accusa- 
tions of  his  youthful  adversary,  as  to  ground  on  this  very  expe- 
dition his  claim  of  advancement  to  a  higher  title. 

It  was  the  darling  hope  of  Essex  that  he  might  be  authorised 
to  lead  without  delay,  his  flourishing  and  victorious  army  to  the 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


440 


recovery  of  Calais,  now  held  by  a  Spanish  garrison  ;  and  he 
look  some  secret  steps  with  the  French  ambassador,  in  order  to 
procure  a  request  to  this  effect  from  Henry  IV.  to  Elizabeth. 
But  this  king  absolutely  refused  to  allow  the  town  to  be  recap- 
tured by  his  ally,  on  the  required  condition  of  her  retaining  it 
at  the  peace  as  an  ancient  possession  of  the  English  crown  ;  the 
Cecil  party  also  opposed  the  design ;  and  the  disappointed 
general  saw  himself  compelled  to  pause  in  the  career  of  glory. 

It  was  not  in  the  disposition  of  Essex  to  support  these  morti- 
fications with  the  calmness  which  policy  appeared  to  dictate ; 
and  Francis  Bacon,  alarmed  at  the  courses  which  he  saw  the 
earl  pursuing,  and  already  foreboding  his  eventual  loss  of  the 
queen's  favour,  and  the  ruin  of  those,  himself  included,  who 
had  placed  their  dependence  on  him,  addressed  to  him  a  very 
remarkable  letter  of  caution  and  remonstrance,  not  less  charac- 
teristic of  his  own  peculiar  mind,  than  illustrative  of  the  critical 
situation  of  him  to  whom  it  was  written. 

After  appealing  to  the  earl  himself  for  the  advantage  which 
he  had  lately  received  by  following  his  own  well-meant  advice, 
in  renewing  with  the  queen  "  a  treaty  of  obsequious  kindness,'* 
which  "  did  much  attemper  a  cold  malignant  humour  then  grow- 
ing upon  her  majesty  towards  him,"  he  repeats  his  counsel  that 
he  should  "  win  the  queen  ;''  adding,  "  if  this  be  not  the  begin- 
ning of  any  other  course,  I  see  no  end.  And  I  will  not  now 
speak  of  favour  or  affection,  but  of  other  correspondence  and 
agreeableness,  which,  when  it  shall  be  conjoined  with  the  other 
of  affection,  I  durst  wager  my  life  ....  that  in  you  she  will  come 
to  question  of  Quid  Jiet  homini  quern  rex  vult  honor  are?  But 
how  is  it  now  ?  A  man  of  a  nature  not  to  be  ruled  ;  that  hath 
the  advantage  of  my  affection  and  knoweth  it ;  of  an  estate  not 
grounded  to  his  greatness  ;  of  a  popular  reputation  ;  of  a  mili- 
tary dependence.  I  demand  whether  there  can  be  a  more  dan- 
ous  image  than  this  represented  to  any  monarch  living,  much 
more  to  a  lady,  and  of  her  majesty's  apprehension  ?  And  is  it 
not  more  evident  than  demonstration  itself,  that  whilst  this  im- 
pression continueth  in  her  majesty's  breast,  you  can  find  no 
other  condition  than  inventions  to  keep  your  estate  bare  and  low; 
crossing  and  disgracing  your  actions  ;  extenuating  and  blasting 
of  your  merit;  carping  with  contempt  at  your  nature  and  fashions; 
breeding,  nourishing  and  fortifying  such  instruments  as  are  most 
factious  against  you  ;  repulses  and  scorns  of  your  friends  and 
dependents  that  are  true  and  steadfast;  winning  and  inveigling 
away  from  you  such  as  are  flexible  and  wavering  ;  thrusting  you 
into  odious  employments  and  offices  to  supplant  your  reputation, 
abusing  you  and  feeding  you  with  dalliances  and  demonstrations 
to  divert  you  from  descending  into  the  serious  consideration  of 
your  own  case  ;  yea  and  percase  venturing  you  in  perilous  and 
desperate  enterprises  ?" 

With  his  usual  exactness  of  method,  he  then  proceeds  to  of- 
fer remedies  for  the  five  grounds  of  offence  to  her  majesty  here 

3  li 


450 


THE  COURT  OF 


pointed  out;  amongst  which  the  following  are  the  most  observe 
able :  That  he  ought  to  ascribe  any  former  and  irrevocable  in- 
stance of  an  ungovernable  humour  in  him  to  dissatisfaction,  and 
not  to  his  natural  temper  ; — That  though  he  sought  to  shun,  and 
in  some  respects  rightly,  any  imitation  of  Hatton  or  Leicester, 
he  should  yet  allege  them  on  occasion  to  the  queen  as  authors 
and  patterns,  because  there  was  no  readier  means  to  make  her 
think  him  in  the  right  course : — That  when  his  lordship  hap- 
pened in  speeches  to  do  her  majesty  right,  "  for  there  is  no  such 
matter  as  flattery  amongst  you  all,"  he  had  rather  the  air  of  pay- 
ing fine  compliments  than  of  speaking  what  he  really  thought ; 
"  so  that,"  adds  he,  "  a  man  may  read  your  formality  in  your 
countenance,"  whereas  it  ought  to  be  done  familiarly  and  with 
an  air  of  earnest.  "  That  he  should  never  be  without  some  par- 
ticulars on  foot  which  he  should  seem  to  pursue  with  earnest- 
ness and  affection,  and  then  let  them  fall  upon  taking  knowledge 
of  her  majesty's  opposition  and  dislike  Of  which  kind  the 
weighti  est  might  be,  if  he  offered  to  labour,  in  the  behalf  of  some 
whom  he  favoured,  for  some  of  the  places  then  void,  choosing 
such  a  subject  as  he  thought  her  majesty  likely  to  oppose  .  .  .  . 
A  less  weighty  sort  of  particulars  might  be  the  pretence  of  some 
journeys,  which  at  her  majesty's  request  his  lordship  might  re- 
linquish ;  as  if  he  should  pretend  a  journey  to  see  his  estate 
towards  Wales,  or  the  like.  .  .  .  And  the  lightest  sort  of  par- 
ticulars, which  yet  were  not  to  be  neglected,  were  in  his  habits, 
apparel,  wearings,  gestures,  and  the  like." 

With  respect  to  a  "  military  dependence,"  which  the  writer 
regards  as  the  most  injurious  impression  respecting  him  of  all, 
he  declares  that  he  could  not  enough  wonder  that  his  lordship 
should  say  the  wars  were  his  occupation,  and  go  on  in  that  course. 
He  greatly  rejoiced  indeed,  now  it  was  over,  in  his  expedition  to 
Cadiz,  on  account  of  the  large  share  of  honour  which  he  had 
acquired,  and  which  would  place  him  for  many  years  beyond  the 
reach  of  military  competition.  Besides  that  the  disposal  of 
places  and  other  matters  relating  to  the  wars,  would  of  them- 
selves flow  in  to  him  as  he  increased  in  other  greatness,  and 
preserve  to  him  that  dependence  entire.  It  was  indeed  a  thing 
which,  considering  the  times  and  the  necessity  of  the  service,  he 
ought  above  all  to  retain  ;  but  while  he  kept  it  in  substance,  he 
should  abolish  it  in  shows  to  the  queen,  who  loved  peace,  and  did 
not  love  cost.  And  on  this  account  he  could  not  so  well  approve 
of  his  affecting  the  place  of  earl  marcshal  or  master  of  the  ord- 
nance, on  account  of  their  affinity  to  a  military  greatness,  and 
rather  recommended  to  his  seeking  the  peaceful,  profitable  and 
courtly  office  of  lord  privy  seal.  In  the  same  manner,  with  re- 
spect to  the  reputation  of  popularity,  which  was  a  good  thing  in 
itself,  and  one  of  the  best  flowers  of  his  greatness  both  present 
and  future,  the  only  way  was  to  quench  it  verbis,  non  rebus  ;  to 
take  all  occasions  to  declaim  against  popularity  and  popular 
courses  to  the  queen,  and  to  tax  them  in  all  others,  yet  for  him- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


451 


self,  to  go  on  as  before  in  all  his  honourable  commonwealth 
courses.  "  And  therefore,"  says  he,  "  1  will  not  advise  to  cure 
this  by  dealing  in  monopolies  or  any  oppressions." 

The  last  and  most  curious  article  of  all,  respects  his  quality 
of  a  favourite.  As,  separated  from  all  the  other  matters,  it  could 
not  hurt,  so,  joined  with  them,  he  observes  that  it  made  her  ma- 
jesty more  fearful  and  captious,  as  not  knowing  her  own  strength. 
Fortius,  the  only  remedy  was  to  give  place  to  any  other  favour- 
ite to  whom  he  should  find  her  majesty  incline,  "  so  as  the  sub- 
ject had  no  ill  or  dangerous  aspect"  towards  himself.  "  For 
otherwise,"  adds  this  politic  adviser,  "  whoever  shall  tell  me 
that  you  may  not  have  singular  use  of  a  favourite  at  your  devo- 
tion, I  will  say  he  understandeth  not  the  queen's  affection,  nor 
your  lordship's  condition." 

These  crafty  counsels,  which  steadily  pursued  would  have 
laid  the  army,  the  court,  and  the  people,  and  in  effect  the  queen 
herself,  at  the  feet  of  a  private  nobleman,  seem  to  have  made 
considerable  impression  for  the  time  on  the  mind  of  Essex; 
though  the  impetuosity  of  his  temper,  joined  to  a  spirit  of  sin- 
cerity, honour  and  generosity,  which  not  even  the  pursuits  of 
ambition  and  the  occupations  of  a  courtier  could  entirely  quench, 
soon  caused  him  to  break  loose  from  their  intolerable  restraint. 

Francis  Bacon,  in  furtherance  of  the  plan  which  he  had  sug- 
gested to  his  patron  of  appearing  to  sink  all  other  characters  in 
that  of  a  devoted  servant  of  her  majesty,  likewise  condescended 
to  employ  his  genius  upon  a  device  which  was  exhibited  by  the  earl 
on  the  ensuing  anniversary  of  her  accession,  with  great  applause. 

First,  his  page,  entering  the  tilt-yard,  accosted  her  majesty  in 
a  fit  speech,  and  she  in  return  graciously  pulled  off  her  glove 
and  gave  it  to  him.  Some  time  after  appeared  the  earl  himself, 
who  was  met  by  an  ancient  hermit,  a  secretary  of  state,  and  a 
soldier ;  each  of  whom  presented  him  with  a  book  recommending 
his  own  course  of  life,  and,  after  a  little  pageantry  and  dumb 
show  to  relieve  the  solemnity  of  the  main  design,  pronounced  a 
long  and  well-penned  speech  to  the  same  effect.  All  were  an- 
swered by  an  esquire,  or  follower  of  the  earl,  who  pointed  out  the 
evils  attached  to  each  pursuit,  and  concluded,  says  our  reporter, 
"  with  an  excellent  but  too  plain  English,  that  this  knight  would 
never  forsake  his  mistress'  love,  whose  virtue  made  all  his 
thoughts  divine,  whose  wisdom  taught  him  all  true  policy,  whose 
beauty  and  worth  made  him  at  all  times  fit  to  command  armies. 
He  showed  all  the  defects  and  imperfections  of  their  times,  and 
therefore  thought  his  own  course  of  life  to  be  best  in  serving  his 
mistress.  .  .  .  The  queen  said  that  if  she  had  thought  there  had 
been  so  much  said  of  her,  she  would  not  have  been  there  that 
night ;  and  so  went  to  bed."  These  speeches  may  still  be  read, 
with  mingled  admiration  and  regret,  amongst  the  immortal  works 
of  Francis  Bacon.  In  majesty  of  diction  and  splendour  of  allu- 
sion they  are  excelled  by  none  of  his  more  celebrated  pieces ; 
and  with  such  a  weight  of  meaning  are  they  fraught,  that  they 
who  are  ignorant  of  the  serious  purpose  which  he  had  in  view 


452 


THE  COURT  OF 


might  wonder  at  the  prodigality  of  the  author  in  employing 
massy  gold  and  real  gems  on  an  occasion  which  deserved  nothing 
better  than  tinsel  and  false  brilliants.  That  full  justice  might 
be  done  to  the  eloquence  of  the  composition,  the  favourite  part 
of  the  esquire  was  supported  by  Toby  Matthew,  whose  father  was 
afterwards  archbishop  of  York  ;  a  man  of  a  singular  and  wayward 
disposition,  whose  prospects  in  life  were  totally  destroyed  by  his 
subsequent  conversion  to  popery ;  but  whose  talents  and  learn- 
ing were  held  in  such  esteem  by  Bacon,  that  he  eagerly  engaged 
his  pen  in  the  task  of  translating  into  Latin  some  of  the  most 
important  of  his  own  philosophical  works.  Such  were  the  "  wits, 
besides  his  own,"  of  which  the  munificent  patronage  of  Essex 
had  given  him  "  the  command  !" 

A  few  miscellaneous  occurrences  of  the  years  1595  and  1596 
remain  to  be  noticed. 

The  size  of  London,  notwithstanding  many  proclamations  and 
acts  of  parliament  prohibiting  the  erection  of  any  new  buildings 
except  on  the  site  of  old  ones,  had  greatly  increased  during  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth ;  and  one  of  the  first  effects  of  its  rapid  growth 
was  to  render  its  streets  less  orderly  and  peaceful.  The  small 
houses  newly  erected  in  the  suburbs  being  crowded  with  poor, 
assembled  from  all  quarters,  thefts  became  frequent ;  and  a  bad 
harvest  having  plunged  the  lower  classes  into  deeper  distress, 
tumults  and  outrages  ensued.  In  June  1595,  great  disorders  were 
committed  on  Tower-hill ;  and  the  multitude  having  insulted 
the  lord  mayor  who  went  out  to  quell  them,  Elizabeth  took  the 
violent  and  arbitrary  step  of  causing  martial  law  to  be  proclaim- 
ed in  her  capital.  Sir  Thomas  Wilford,  appointed  provost-mar- 
shal for  the  occasion,  paraded  the  streets  daily  with  a  body  of 
armed  men  ready  to  hang  all  rioters  in  the  most  summary  man- 
ner ;  and  five  of  these  offenders  suffered  for  high  treason  on 
Tower-hill,  without  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  people,  or  re- 
monstrance on  that  of  the  parliament,  against  so  flagrant  a  vio- 
lation of  the  dearest  rights  of  Englishmen. 

Lord  Hunsdon,  the  nearest  kinsman  of  the  queen,  whose  cha- 
racter has  been  already  touched  upon,  died  in  1596.  It  is  re- 
lated that  Elizabeth,  on  hearing  of  his  illness,  finally  resolved 
to  confer  upon  him  the  title  of  earl  of  Wiltshire,  to  which  he 
had  some  claim  as  nephew  and  heir  male  to  sir  Thomas  Boleyn, 
her  majesty's  grandfather,  who  had  borne  that  dignity.  She  ac- 
cordingly made  him  a  gracious  visit,  and  caused  the  patent  and 
the  robes  of  an  earl  to  be  brought  and  laid  upon  his  bed  ;  but 
the  old  man,  preserving  to  the  last  the  blunt  honesty  of  his  cha- 
racter, declared,  that  if  her  majesty  had  accounted  him  unwor- 
thy of  that  honour  while  living,  he  accounted  himself  unworthy 
of  it  now  that  he  was  dying;  and  with  this  refusal  he  expired. 
Lord  Willoughby  succeeded  him  in  the  office  of  governor  of 
Berwick,  and  lord  Cobham,  a  wealthy,  but  insignificant  person  of 
the  party  opposed  to  Essex,  in  that  of  lord  chamberlain. 

Henry  third  earl  of  Huntingdon,  of  the  family  of  Hastings, 
died  about  the  same  time.    By  his  mother,  eldest  daughter  and 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


453 


coheiress  of  Henry  Pole  lord  Montacute,  he  was  the  representa- 
tive of  the  Clarence  branch  of  the  family  of  Plantagenet ;  but  no 
pretensions  of  his  had  ever  awakened  anxiety  in  the  house  of 
Tudor.  He  was  a  person  of  mild  disposition,  greatly  attached 
to  the  puritan  party,  which,  bound  together  by  a  secret  compact, 
now  formed  a  church  within  the  church;  he  is  said  to  have  im- 
paired his  fortune  by  his  bounty  to  the  more  zealous  preachers; 
and  he  largely  contributed  by  his  will  to  the  endowment  of 
Emanuel  college,  the  puritanical  character  of  which  was  now 
well  known. 

Richard  Fletcher  bishop  of  Loudon,  "  a  comely  and  courtly 
prelate,"  who  departed  this  life  in  the  same  year,  affords  a  sub- 
ject for  a  few  remarks.  It  was  a  practice  of  the  more  powerful 
courtiers  of  that  day,  when  the  lands  of  a  vacant  see  had  excited, 
as  they  seldom  failed  to  do,  their  cupidity,  to  "find  out  some 
men  that  had  great  minds  and  small  means  or  merits,  that  would 
be  glad  to  leave  a  small  deanery  to  make  a  poor  bishopric,  by 
new  leasing  lands  that  were  almost  out  of  lease  ;"*  and  on  these 
terms,  which  the  more  conscientious  churchmen  disdained, 
Fletcher  had  taken  the  bishopric  of  Oxford,  and  had  in  due  time 
been  rewarded  for  his  compliance  by  translation  first  to  Wor- 
cester and  afterwards  to  London.  His  talents  and  deportment 
pleased  the  queen ;  and  it  is  mentioned,  as  an  indication  of  her 
special  favour,  that  she  once  quarrelled  with  him  for  wearing 
too  short  a  beard.  But  he  afterwards  gave  her  more  serious  dis- 
pleasure by  taking  a  wife  ;  a  gay  and  fair  court  lady  of  good 
quality;  and  he  had  scarcely  pacified  her  majesty  by  the  pro- 
pitiatory offering  of  a  great  entertainment  at  his  house  in  Chel- 
sea, when  he  was  carried  off  by  a  sudden  death ;  ascribed  by 
his  contemporaries  to  his  immoderate  use  of  the  new  luxury  of 
smoking  tobacco.  This  prelate  was  the  father  of  Fletcher  the 
dramatic  poet. 

Bishop  Vaughan  succeeded  him ;  of  whom  Harrington  gives 
the  following  trait :  "  He  was  an  enemy  to  all  supposed  mira- 
cles, insomuch  as  one  arguing  with  him  in  the  closet  at  Green- 
wich in  defence  of  them,  and  alleging  the  queen's  healing  of 
the  evil  for  an  instance,  asking  him  what  he  could  say  against 
it ;  he  answered,  that  he  was  loth  to  answer  arguments  taken 
from  the  topic-place  of  the  cloth  of  estate ;  but  if  they  would 
urge  him  to  answer,  he  said  his  opinion  was,  she  did  it  by  virtue 
of  some  precious  stone  in  possession  of  the  crown  of  England 
that  had  such  a  natural  quality.  But  had  queen  Elizabeth  been 
told  that  he  ascribed  more  virtue  to  her  jewels  (though  she  loved 
them  well)  than  to  her  person,  she  would  never  have  made  him 
bishop  of  Chester." 

Of  the  justice  of  the  last  remark  there  can  be  little  question. 
In  this  reign,  the  royal  pretension  referred  to,  was  asserted 
with  unusual  earnestness,  and  for  good  reasons,  as  we  learn  from 
a  different  authority.    In  1597  a  quarto  book  appeared,  written 

*  Harrington's  Brief  View. 


454 


THE  COURT  OF 


in  Latin  and  dedicated  to  her  majesty  by  one  of  her  chaplains, 
which  contained  a  relation  of  the  cures  thus  performed  by  her ; 
in  which  it  is  related,  that  a  catholic  having  been  so  healed  went 
away  persuaded  that  the  pope's  excommunication  of  her  majesty 
was  of  no  effect :  "  For  if  she  had  not  by  right  obtained  the 
sceptre  of  the  kingdom,  and  her  throne  established  by  the  autho- 
rity and  appointment  of  God,  what  she  attempted  could  not  have 
succeeded,  Because  the  rule  is,  that  God  is  not  any  where  wit- 
ness to  a  lie."*    Such  were  the  reasonings  of  that  age. 

It  is  probably  to  bishop  Vaughan  also  that  sir  John  Harrington 
refers  in  the  following  article  of  his  Brief  Notes. 

One  Sunday  (April  last)  my  lord  of  London  preached  to  the 
queen's  majesty,  and  seemed  to  touch  on  the  vanity  of  decking 
the  body  too  finely.  Her  majesty  told  the  ladies,  that  if  the 
bishop  held  more  discourse  on  such  matters,  she  would  fit  him 
for  heaven,  but  he  should  walk  thither  without  a  staff,  and  leave 
his  mantle  behind  him.  Perchance  the  bishop  hath  never  sought 
ber  highness'  wardrobe,  or  he  would  have  chosen  another  text."t 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


FROM  1597  AND  1598. 

Fresh  expedition  against  Spain  proposed. — Extractsfrom  Whyte's 
letters. — Raleigh  reconciles  Essex  and  R.  Cecil. — Essex  master 
of  the  ordnance. — Anecdote  of  the  queen  and  Mrs.  Bridges. — 
Preparations  for  the  expedition. — Notice  of  lord  Southampton. 
— ///  success  of  the  voyage. — Quarrel  of  Essex  and  Raleigh. — 
Displeasure  of  the  queen. — Lord  admiral  made  earl  of  Notting- 
ham.— Anger  of  Essex. — He  is  declared  hereditary  earl  mar- 
shal.— Reply  of  the  queen  to  a  Polish  ambassador — to  a  propo- 
sition of  the  king  of  Denmark. — State  of  Ireland. — Treaty  of 
Vervins. — Agreement  between  Cecil  and  Essex. — Anecdotes  of 
Essex  and  the  queen. — Their  quarrel. — Letter  of  Essex  to  the 
lord  keeper. — Dispute  betweeen  Burleigh  and  Essex. — Agree- 
ment ivith  the  Dutch. — Death  and  character  of  Burleigh. — 
Transactions  between  the  queen  and  the  king  of  Scots,  and  an 
extract  from  their  correspondence. — Anecdote  of  sir  Roger 
Aston  and  the  queen. — Anecdote  of  archbishop  Hutton. — Death 
of  Spenser. — HalPs  satires. — Notice  of  sir  John  Harrington. 
— Extracts  from  his  note-book. 

A  fresh  expedition  against  the  Spaniards  was  in  agitation 
from  the  beginning  of  this  year,  which  occasioned  many  move- 


*  Strype's  Annals. 


f  Nugse  Antiquse. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


455 


ments  at  court,  and,  as  usual,  disturbed  the  mind  of  the  queen 
with  various  perplexities.  Her  captious  favour  towards  Essex, 
and  the  arts  employed  by  him  to  gain  his  will  on  every  contest- 
ed point,  are  well  illustrated  in  the  letters  of  Rowland  Whyte, 
to  winch  we  must  again  recur. 

On  February  twenty-second  he  writes  :  "  My  lord  of  Essex  kept 
his  bed  the  most  part  of  all  yesterday  ;  yet  did  one  of  his  chamber 
tell  me,  he  could  not  weep  for  it,  for  he  knew  his  lord  was  not 
sick.  There  is  not  a  day  passes  that  the  queen  sends  not  often 
to  see  him,  and  himself  every  day  goeth  privately  to  her."  Two 
days  after,  he  reports  that.  "  my  lord  of  Essex  comes  out  of  his 
chamber  in  his  gown  and  night  cap.  .  .  .  Full  fourteen  days  his 
lordship  kept  in ;  her  majesty,  as  I  heard,  resolved  to  break  him 
of  his  will  and  to  pull  down  his  great  heart  who  found  it  a  thing 
impossible,  and  says  he  holds  it  from  the  mother's  side ;  but  all 
is  well  again,  and  no  doubt  he  will  grow  a  mighty  man  in  our 
state." 

The  earl  of  Cumberland  made  "  some  doubt  of  his  going  to 
sea,"  because  lord  Thomas  Howard  and  Raleigh  were  to  be 
joined  with  him  in  equal  authority ;  the  queen  mentioned  the 
subject  to  him,  and  on  his  repeating  to  herself  his  refusal,  he 
was  "well  chidden." 

In  March,  Raleigh  was  busied  in  mediating  a  reconciliation 
between  Essex  and  Robert  Cecil,  in  which  he  was  so  far  suc- 
cessful that  a  kind  of  compromise  took  place ;  and  henceforth 
court  favours  were  shared  without  any  open  quarrels  between 
their  respective  adherents.  The  motives  urged  by  Raleigh  for 
this  agreement  were,  that  it  would  benefit  the  country ;  that  the 
queen's  "continual  unquietness"  would  turn  to  contentment, 
and  that  public  business  would  go  on  to  the  hurt  of  the  common 
enemy. 

Essex  however  was  malcontent  at  heart ;  he  began  to  frequent 
certain  meetings  held  in  Blackfriars  at  the  house  of  lady 
Russel,  a  busy  puritan,  who  was  one  of  the  learned  daughters  of 
sir  Anthony  Cook.  "  Wearied,"  says  Whyte,  "  with  not  know- 
ing how  to  please,  he  is  not  unwilling  to  listen  to  those  motions 
made  him  for  the  public  good."  He  was  soon  after  so  much  of- 
fended with  her  majesty  for  giving  the  office  of  warden  of  the 
cinque  ports  to  his  enemy  lord  Cobham,  after  he  had  asked  it  for 
himself,  that  he  was  about  to  quit  the  court;  but  the  queen  sent 
for  him,  and,  to  pacify  him,  made  him  master  of  the  ordnance. 

It  is  mentioned  about  this  time,  that  the  queen  had  of  late 
"used  the  fair  Mrs.  Bridges  with  words  and  blows  of  anger." 
This  young  lady  was  one  of  the  maids  of  honour,  and  the  same 
referred  to  in  a  subsequent  letter,  where  it  is  said,  "it  is  spied 
out  by  envy  that  the  earl  of  Essex  is  again  fallen  in  love  with  his 
fairest  B."  On  which  Whyte  observes,  "  It  cannot  choose  but 
come  to  the  queen's  ears  ;  and  then  is  he  undone,  and  all  that 
depend  upon  his  favour."  A  striking  indication  of  the  nature 
of  the  sentiment  which  the  aged  sovereign  cherished  for  her 
youthful  favourite ! 


456 


THE  COURT  OF 


Tn  May  our  intelligencer  writes  thus :  "  Here  hath  been  much 
ado  between  the  queen  and  the  lords  about  the  preparation  to 
sea ;  some  of  them  urging  the  necessity  of  setting  it  forward  for 
her  safety ;  but  she  opposing  it  by  no  danger  appearing  towards 
her  any  where ;  and  that  she  will  not  make  wars  but  arm  for 
defence;  understanding  how  much  of  her  treasure  was  already 
spent  in  victual,  both  for  ships  and  soldiers  at  land.  She  was 
extremely  angry  with  them  that  made  such  haste  in  it,  and 
at  Burleigh  for  suffering  it,  seeing  no  greater  occasion.  No 
reason  nor  persuasion  by  some  of  the  lords  could  prevail,  but 
that  her  majesty  hath  commanded  order  to  be  given  to  stay  all 
proceeding,  and  sent  my  lord  Thomas  (Howard)  word  that  he 
should  not  go  to  sea.  How  her  majesty  may  be  wrought  to 
fulfil  the  most  earnest  desire  of  some  to  have  it  go  forward, 
time  must  make  it  known." 

But  the  reconciliation,  whether  sincere  or  otherwise,  brought 
about  by  Raleigh  between  Essex  and  the  Cecils,  rendered  at 
this  time  the  war-party  so  strong,  that  the  scruples  of  the  queen 
were  at  length  overruled,  and  a  formidable  armament  was  sent 
to  sea,  with  the  double  object  of  destroying  the  Spanish  ships  in 
their  harbours  and  intercepting  their  homeward  bound  West 
India  fleet.  Essex  was  commander  in  chief  by  sea  and  land ; 
lord  Thomas  Howard  and  Raleigh  vice  and  rear  admirals ;  lord 
Mountjoy  was  lieutenant  general;  sir  Francis  Vere,  marshal. 
Several  young  noblemen  attached  to  Essex  joined  the  expedition 
as  volunteers ;  as  lord  Rich  his  brother-in-law,  the  earl  of  Rut- 
land, afterwards  married  to  the  daughter  of  the  countess  of 
Essex  by  sir  Philip  Sidney ;  lord  Cromwell ;  and  the  earl  of 
Southampton.  The  last,  whose  friendship  for  Essex  afterwards 
hurried  him  into  an  enterprise  still  more  perilous,  appears  to 
have  been  attracted  to  him  by  an  extraordinary  conformity  of 
tastes  and  temper.  Like  Essex,  he  was  brave  and  generous,  but  im- 
petuous and  somewhat  inclined  to  arrogance  : — like  him,  a  muni- 
ficent patron  of  the  genius  which  he  loved.  Like  his  friend  again, 
he  received  from  her  majesty  tokens  of  peculiar  favour,  which 
she  occasionally  suspended  on  his  giving  indications  of  an  ungo- 
vernable temper  or  too  lofty  spirit,  and  which  she  finally 
withdrew,  on  his  presuming  to  marry  without  that  consent 
which  to  certain  persons  she  could  never  have  been  induced  to  ac- 
cord. This  earl  of  Southampton  was  grandson  of  that  ambitious 
and  assuming  but  able  and  diligent  statesman,  lord  chancellor 
Wriothesley,  appointed  by  Henry  VIII.  one  of  his  executors ;  he 
was  father  of  the  virtuous  Southampton  lord  treasurer,  and  by 
him,  grandfather  of  the  heroical  and  ever-memorable  Rachel 
lady  Russel., 

A  storm  drove  the  ill-fated  armament  back  to  Plymouth, 
where  it  remained  wind-bound  for  a  month,  and  Essex  and  Ra- 
leigh posted  together  up  to  court  for  fresh  instructions.  Having 
concerted  their  measures,  they  made  sail  for  the  Azores,  and  Ra- 
leigh with  his  division  arriving  first,  attacked  and  captured  the 
isle  of  Fayal  without  waiting  for  his  admiral.    Essex  was  in- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


457 


censed  ;  and  there  were  not  wanting  those  about  him  who  ap- 
plied themselves  to  fan  the  flame,  and  even  urged  him  to  bring 
sir  Walter  to  a  court-martial :  but  he  refused ;  and  his  anger 
soon  evaporating,  lord  Thomas  Howard  was  enabled  to  accommo- 
date the  difference,  and  the  rivals  returned  to  the  appearance  of 
friendship.  Essex  was  destitute  of  the  naval  skill  requisite  for 
the  prosperous  conduct  of  such  an  enterprise  :  owing  partly  to 
his  mistakes,  and  partly  to  several  thwarting  circumstances,  the 
West  India  fleet  escaped  him,  and  three  rich  Havannah  ships, 
which  served  to  defray  most  of  the  expenses,  were  the  only 
trophies  of  his  "  Island  Voyage,"  from  which  himself  and  the 
nation  had  anticipated  results  so  glorious. 

The  queen  received  him  with  manifest  dissatisfaction ;  his  se- 
verity towards  Raleigh  was  blamed,  and  it  was  evident  that 
matters  tended  to  involve  him  in  fresh  differences  with  Robert 
Cecil.  During  his  absence,  the  lord  admiral  had  been  advanced 
to  the  dignity  of  earl  of  Nottingham,  and  he  now  discovered  that 
by  a  clause  in  the  patent  this  honour  was  declared  to  be  con- 
ferred upon  him  in  consideration  of  his  good  service  at  the  taking 
of  Cadiz,  an  action  of  which  Essex  claimed  to  himself  the  whole 
merit.  To  make  the  injury  greater,  this  title,  conjoined  to  the 
office  of  lord  high  admiral,  gave  the  new  earl  precedency  of  all 
others  of  the  same  rank,  Essex  amongst  the  rest.  To  such  com- 
plicated mortifications  his  proud  spirit  disdained  to  submit; 
and  after  challenging  without  effect  to  single  combat  the  lord 
admiral  himself  or  any  of  his  sons  who  would  take  up  the  quar- 
rel, the  indignant  favourite  retired  a  sullen  malcontent  to  Wan- 
stead-house,  feigning  himself  sick.  This  expedient  acted  on  the 
heart  of  the  queen  with  all  its  wonted  force ; — she  showed  the 
utmost  concern  for  his  situation,  chid  the  Cecils  for  wronging 
him,  and  soon  after  made  him  compensation  for  the  act  which 
had  wounded  him,  by  admitting  his  claim  to  the  hereditary  office 
of  earl  marshal,  with  which  he  was  solemnly  invested  in  Decem- 
ber 1597;  and  in  right  of  it  once  more  took  place  above  the  lord 
admiral. 

It  was  during  this  summer  that  the  arrogant  deportment  of  a 
Polish  ambassador,  sent  to  complain  of  an  invasion  of  neutral 
rights  in  the  interruption  given  by  the  English  navy  to  the  trade 
of  his  master's  subjects  with  Spain,  gave  occasion  to  a  celebrated 
display  of  the  spirit  and  the  erudition  of  the  queen  of  England. 
Speed,  the  ablest  of  our  chroniclers,  gives  at  length  her  extem- 
poral  Latin  reply  to  his  harangue ;  adding  in  his  quaint  but  ex- 
pressive phrase,  that  she,  "thus  lion  like  rising,  daunted  the 
malapert  orator  no  less  with  her  stately  port  and  majestical  de- 
porture,  than  with  the  tartness  of  her  princely  checks :  and 
turning  to  the  train  of  her  attendants  thus  said,  '  God's  death, 
my  lords,'  (for  tjiat  was  her  oath  ever  in  anger,)*  I  have  been 
inforced  this  day  to  scour  up  my  old  Latin,  that  hath  lain  long 
in  rusting.' "  The  same  author  mentions,  that  the  king  of  Den- 
mark having  by  his  ambassador  offered  to  mediate  between 
England  and  Spain,  the  queen  declined  the  overture,  adding,  "  I 

3  M 


458 


THE  COURT  OF 


would  have  the  king  of  Denmark  and  all  princes  Christian  and 
Heathen  to  know,  that  England  hath  no  need  to  crave  peace ; 
nor  myself  indured  one  hour's  fear  since  I  attained  the  crown 
thereof,  being  guarded  with  so  valiant  and  faithful  subjects." 
Such  was  the  lofty  tone  which  Elizabeth,  to  the  end  of  her  days, 
maintained  towards  foreign  powers  ;  none  of  whom  had  she 
cause  to  dread  or  motive  to  court.  Yet  her  cheerfulness  and 
fortitude  were  at  the  same  time  on  the  point  of  sinking  under 
the  harassing  disquietudes  of  a  petty  war  supported  against  her 
by  an  Irish  chief  of  rebels. 

The  head  of  the  sept  O'Neal,  whom  she  had  in  vain  endea- 
voured to  attach  permanently  to  her  interests  by  conferring  upon 
him  the  dignity  of  earl  of  Tyrone,  had  now  for  some  years  per- 
severed in  a  resistance  to  her  authority,  which  the  most  stre- 
nuous efforts  of  the  civil  and  military  governors  of  this  turbu- 
lent and  miserable  island  had  proved  inadequate  to  overcome. 
That  brave  officer  sir  John  Norris,  then  general  of  Ulster,  had 
found  it  necessary  to  grant  terms  to  the  rebel  whom  he  would 
gladly  have  brought  in  bonds  to  the  feet  of  his  sovereign.  But 
the  treaty  thus  made,  this  perfidious  barbarian,  according  to  his 
custom,  observed  only  till  the  English  forces  were  withdrawn, 
and  he  saw  the  occasion  favourable  to  rise  again  in  arms.  Lord 
Borough,  whom  the  queen  had  appointed  deputy  in  1598,— -on 
which  sir  John  Norris,  appointed  to  act  under  him,  died,  as  it  is 
thought,  of  chagrin, — began  his  career  with  a  vigorous  attack, 
by  which  he  carried,  though  not  without  considerable  loss,  the 
fort  of  Blackwater,  the  only  place  of  strength  possessed  by  the 
rebels  ;  but  before  he  was  able  to  pursue  farther  his  success, 
death  overtook  him,  and  the  government  was  committed  for  a 
time  to  the  earl  of  Ormond.  Tyrone,  nothing  daunted,  laid  siege 
in  his  turn  to  Blackwater ;  and  sir  Henry  Bagnal,  with  the  flower 
of  the  English  army,  being  sent  to  relieve  it,  sustained  the  most 
signal  defeat  ever  experienced  by  an  English  force  in  Ireland. 
The  commander  himself,  several  captains  of  distinction,  and  fif- 
teen hundred  men,  were  left  on  the  field  ;  and  the  fort  imme- 
diately surrendered  to  the  rebel  chief,  who  now  vauntingly  de- 
clared, that  he  would  accept  of  no  terms  from  the  queen  of 
England,  being  resolved  to  remain  in  arms,  till  the  king  of  Spain 
should  send  forces  to  his  assistance. 

Such  was  the  alarming  position  of  affairs  in  this  island,  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  year  1598.  At  home,  several  incidents  had 
intervened  to  claim  attention. 

The  king  of  France  had  received  from  Spain  proposals  for  a 
peace,  which  the  exhausted  state  of  his  country  would  not  per- 
mit him  to  neglect:  and  he  had  used  his  utmost  endeavours  to 
persuade  his  allies,  the  queen  of  England  and  the  United  Pro- 
vinces, to  enter  into  the  negotiations  for  a  general  pacification. 
But  Philip  II.  still  refused  to  acknowledge  -the  independence  of 
his  revolted  subjects,  the  only  basis  on  which  the  new  republic, 
would  condescend  to  treat.  Elizabeth,  besides  that  she  dis- 
dained to  desert  those  whom  she  had  so  long  and  so  zealously 


t 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


459 


supported,  was  in  no  haste  to  terminate  a  war  from  which  she 
and  her  subjects  anticipated  honour  with  little  peril,  and  plunder 
which  would  more  than  repay  its  expenses  ;  and  both  from  Eng- 
land and  Holland  agents  were  sent  to  remonstrate  with  Henry 
against  the  breach  of  treaty  which  he  was  about  to  commit  by 
the  conclusion  of  a  separate  peace.  Elizabeth  wrote  to  admon- 
ish him  that  the  true  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost  was  ingratitude, 
of  which  she  had  so  much  right  to  accuse  him;  that  fidelity  to 
engagements  was  the  first  of  duties  and  of  virtues :  and  that 
union,  according  to  the  ancient  apologue  of  the  bundle  of  rods, 
was  the  source  of  strength.  But  to  all  her  eloquence  and  all 
her  invectives  Henry  had  to  oppose  the  necessity  of  his  affairs, 
and  the  treaty  of  Vervins  was  concluded  ;  but  not  without  some 
previous  stipulations  on  the  part  of  the  French  king  which  sof- 
tened considerably  the  resentment  of  his  ally.  Of  the  com- 
missioners named  by  Elizabeth  to  arrange  this  business  with 
Henry,  Robert  Cecil  was  the  chief;  who  held  before  his  depar- 
ture many  private  conferences  with  Essex,  and  would  not  move 
from  court  till  he  had  bound  him  by  favours  and  promises  to  do 
him  no  injury  by  promoting  his  enemies  in  his  absence.  The 
earl  of  Southampton  having  given  some  offence  to  her  majesty  for 
which  she  had  ordered  him  to  absent  himself  awhile  from  court, 
took  the  opportunity  to  obtain  license  to  travel,  and  attended 
the  secretary  to  France,  perhaps  in  the  character  of  a  spy  upon 
his  motions  on  behalf  of  Essex,  who  seems  to  have  prepared  him 
for  the  service  by  much  private  instruction. 

"  I  acquainted  you,'"'  says  Rowland  Whyte  to  his  correspon- 
dent, "  with  the  care  had  to  bring  my  lady  of  Leicester  to  the 
queen's  presence.  It  was  often  granted,  and  she  brought  to  the 
privy  galleries,  but  the  queen  found  some  occasion  not  to  come. 
Upon  Shrove  Monday  the  queen  was  persuaded  to  go  to  Mr. 
Comptroller's  at  the  tilt  end,  and  there  was  my  lady  of  Leices- 
ter with  a  fair  jewel  of  three  hundred  pounds.  A  great  dinner 
was  prepared  by  my  lady  Chandos  ;  the  queen's  coach  ready, 
and  all  the  world  expecting  her  majesty's  coming ;  when,  upon 
a  sudden,  she  resolved  not  to  go,  and  so  sent  word.  My  lord 
of  Essex,  that  had  kept  his  chamber  all  the  day  before,  in  his 
night-gown  went  up  to  the  queen  the  privy  way ;  but  all  would 
not  prevail,  and  as  yet  my  lady  Leicester  hath  not  seen  the 
queen.  It  had  been  better  not  moved,  for  my  lord  of  Essex,  by 
importuning  the  queen  in  these  unpleasing  matters,  loses  the  op- 
portunity he  might  take  to  do  good  unto  his  ancient  friends," 
But  on  March  2d  he  adds  ;  "  My  lady  Leicester  was  at  court, 
kissed  the  queen's  hand  and  her  breast,  and  did  embrace  her, 
and  the  queen  kissed  her.  My  lord  of  Essex  is  in  exceeding 
favour  here.  Lady  Leicester  departed  from  court  exceedingly 
contented,  but  being  desirous  again  to  come  to  kiss  the  queen's 
hand,  it  was  denied,  and,  as  I  heard,  some  wonted  unkind  words 
given  out  against  her." 

This  extraordinary  height  of  royal  favour  was  not  merely  the 
precursor,  but,  by  the  arrogant  presumption  with  which  it  in- 


460 


THE  COURT  OF 


spired  him,  a  principal  cause  of  Essex's  decline,  which  was  now 
fast  approaching.  Confident  in  the  affections  of  Elizabeth,  he 
suffered  himself  to  forget  that  she  was  still  his  queen  and  still 
a  Tudor ;  he  often  neglected  the  attentions  which  would  have 
gratified  her ;  on  any  occasional  cause  of  ill-humour  he  would 
drop  slighting  expressions  respecting  her  age  and  person  which, 
if  they  reached  her  ear,  could  never  be  forgiven ;  on  one  memo- 
rable instance,  he  treated  her  with  indignity  openly  and  in  her 
presence.  A  dispute  had  arisen  between  them  in  presence  of 
the  admiral,  the  secretary,  and  the  clerk  of  the  signet,  respect- 
ing the  choice  of  a  commander  for  Ireland  ;  the  queen  resolving 
to  send  sir  William  Knolles,  the  uncle  of  Essex,  while  he  vehe- 
mently supported  sir  George  Carew,  because  this  person,  who 
was  haughty  and  boastful,  had  given  him  some  offence,  and  he 
wanted  to  remove  him  out  of  his  way.  Unable  either  by  argu- 
ment or  persuasion  to  prevail  over  the  resolute  will  of  her  ma- 
jesty, the  favourite  at  last  forgot  himself  so  far  as  to  turn  his 
back  upon  her  with  a  laugh  of  contempt;  an  outrage  which  she 
revenged  after  her  own  manner,  by  boxing  his  ears  and  bidding 
him  "  Go  and  be  hanged."  This  retort  so  inflamed  the  blood  of 
Essex  that  he  clapped  his  hand  on  his  sword,  and  while  the  lord 
admiral  hastened  to  throw  himself  between  them,  he  swore  that 
not  from  Henry  VIII.  himself  would  he  have  endured  such 
an  indignity,  and  foaming  with  rage  he  rushed  out  of  the  palace. 
His  sincere  friend  the  lord  keeper  immediately  addressed  to  him 
a  prudential  letter,  urging  him  to  lose  no  time  in  seeking  with 
humble  submissions  the  forgiveness  of  his  offended  mistress : 
but  Essex  replied  to  these  well  intended  admonitions  by  a  letter 
which,  amid  all  the  choler  that  it  betrays,  must  still  be  applauded 
both  for  its  eloquence  and  for  a  manliness  of  sentiment  of  which 
few  other  public  characters  of  the  age  appear  to  have  been  ca- 
pable. The  lord  keeper  in  his  letter  had  strongly  urged  the  re- 
ligious duty  of  absolute  submission  on  the  part  of  a  subject  to 
every  thing  that  his  sovereign,  justly  or  unjustly,  should  be 
pleased  to  lay  upon  him  ;  to  which  the  earl  thus  replies :  "  But, 
say  you,  I  must  yield  and  submit.  I  can  neither  yield  myself 
to  be  guilty,  or  this  imputation  laid  upon  me  to  be  just.  I  owe 
so  much  to  the  author  of  all  truth,  as  I  can  never  yield  falsehood 
to  be  truth,  or  truth  to  be  falsehood.  Have  I  given  cause,  ask 
you,  and  take  scandal  when  I  have  done  r  No  ;  I  gave  no  cause 
to  take  so  much  as  Fimbria's  complaint  against  me,  for  I  did 
totum  telmn  corpore  recipere.  I  patiently  bear  all,  and  sensibly 
feel  all,  that  1  then  received,  when  this  scandal  was  given  me. 
Nay  more,  when  the  vilest  of  all  indignities  are  done  unto  me, 
doth  religion  enforce  me  to  sue  ?  or  doth  God  require  it  ?  is  it 
impiety  not  to  do  it?  What,  cannot  princes  err ?  cannot  sub- 
jects receive  wrong?  Is  an  earthly  power  or  authority  infinite  r 
Pardon  me,  pardon  me,  my  good  lord,  I  can  never  subscribe  to 
these  principles.  Let  Solomon's  fool  laugh  when  he  is  stricken  ? 
let  those  that  mean  to  make  their  profit  of  princes,  show  to  have 
no  sense  of  princes'  injuries  ;  let  them  acknowledge  an  infinite 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


461 


absoluteness  on  earth,  that  do  not  believe  in  an  absolute  infinite- 
ness  in  heaven.  As  for  me,  I  have  received  wrong,  and  feel  it. 
My  cause  is  good;  I  know  it;  and  whatsoever  come,  all  the 
powers  on  earth  can  never  show  more  strength  and  constancy 
in  oppressing,  than  I  can  show  in  suffering  whatsoever  can  or 
shall  be  imposed  upon  me,"  &c. 

Several  other  friends  of  Essex,  his  mother,  his  sister,  and  the 
earl  of  Northumberland  her  husband,  urged  him  in  like  manner 
to  return  to  his  attendance  at  court  and  seek  her  majesty's  for- 
giveness ;  while  she,  on  her  part,  secretly  uneasy  at  his  absence, 
permitted  certain  persons  to  go  to  him,  as  from  themselves,  and 
suggest  terms  of  accommodation.  Sir  George  Carew  was  made 
lord  president  of  Munster;  and  sir  William  Knolles,  who  per- 
haps had  not  desired  the  appointment,  assured  his  nephew  of  his 
earnest  wish  to  serve  him.  Finally,  this  great  quarrel  was  made 
up,  we  scarcely  know  how,  and  Essex  appeared  as  powerful  at 
court  as  ever;  though  some  have  believed,  and  with  apparent 
reason,  that  from  this  time  the  sentiments  of  the  queen  for  her 
once  cherished  favourite,  partook  more  of  fear  than  of  love  ;  and 
that  confidence  was  never  re-established  between  them. 

This  celebrated  dispute  appears  to  have  been  in  some  manner 
mingled  or  connected  with  the  important  question  of  peace  or 
war  with  Spain,  which  had  previously  been  debated  with  ex- 
treme earnestness  between  Essex  and  Burleigh.  The  former, 
who  still  thirsted  for  military  distinction,  contended  with  the 
utmost  vehemence  of  invective  for  the  maintenance  of  perpetual 
hostility  against  the  power  of  Philip ;  while  the  latter  urged, 
that  he  was  now  sufficiently  humbled  to  render  an  accommoda- 
tion both  safe  and  honourable.  Wearied  and  disgusted  at  length 
with  the  violence  of  his  young  antagonist,  the  hoary  minister,  in 
whom 

 "  Old  experience  did  attain 

To  something  like  prophetic  strain," 

drew  forth  a  Prayer-book,  and  with  awful  significance  pointed 
to  the  text,  "  Men  of  blood  shall  not  live  out  half  their  days." 
But  the  clamour  for  war  prevailed  over  the  pleadings  of  huma- 
nity and  prudence,  and  it  was  left  for  the  unworthy  succes- 
sor of  Elizabeth  to  patch  up  in  haste  an  inconsiderate  and  igno 
ble  peace,  in  place  of  the  solid  and  advantageous  one  which  the 
wisdom  of  Elizabeth  and  her  better  counsellor  might  at  this  time 
with  ease  have  concluded. 

The  lord  treasurer  enjoyed  however  the  satisfaction  of  com- 
pleting for  his  mistress  an  agreement  with  the  states  of  Holland, 
which  provided  in  a  satisfactory  manner  for  the  re-payment  of 
the  sums  which  she  had  advanced  to  them,  and  exonerated  her 
from  a  considerable  portion  of  the  annual  expense  which  she  had 
hitherto  incurred  in  their  defence.  This  was  the  last  act  of  lord 
Burleigh's  life,  which  terminated  by  a  long  and  gradual  decay 
on  August  4th  1598,  in  the  78th  year  of  his  age, 

I  • 


462 


THE  COURT  OF 


On  the  character  of  this  great  minister,  identified  as  it  is  with 
that  of  the  government  of  Elizabeth  during  a  period  of  no  less 
than  forty  years,  a  few  additional  remarks  may  here  suffice. — 
Good  sense  was  the  leading  feature  of  his  intellect ;  moderation 
of  his  temper.  His  nalive  quickness  of  apprehension  was  sup- 
ported by  a  wonderful  force  and  steadiness  of  application,  and 
by  an  exemplary  spirit  of  order.  His  morals  were  regular ;  his 
sense  of  religion  habitual,  profound,  and  operative.  In  his  de- 
clining age,  harassed  by  diseases  and  cares,  and  saddened  by  the 
loss  of  a  beloved  wife,  the  worthy  sharer  of  his  inmost  counsels, 
he  became  peevish  and  irascible ;  but  his  heart  was  good  ;  in  all 
the  domestic  relations  he  was  indulgent  and  affectionate  ;  in  his 
friendships  tender  and  faithful,  nor  could  he  be  accused  of  pride, 
of  treachery,  or  of  vindictiveness.  Rising,  as  he  did,  by  the 
strength  of  his  own  merits,  unaided  by  birth  or  connexions,  he 
seemed  to  have  early  formed  the  resolution,  more  prudent  indeed 
than  generous,  of  attaching  himself  to  no  political  leader  so 
closely  as  to  be  entangled  in  his  fall.  Thus  he  deserted  his 
earliest  patron,  Protector  Somerset,  on  a  change  of  fortune,  and 
is  even  said  to  have  drawn  the  articles  of  impeachment  against 
him. 

He  extricated  himself  with  adroitness  from  the  ruin  of  Nor- 
thumberland, by  whom  he  had  been  much  employed  and  trust- 
ed ;  and  at  some  expense  of  protestant  consistency  contrived  to 
escape  persecution,  though  not  to  hold  office,  under  the  rule  of 
Mary.  Towards  the  queen  his  mistress,  his  demeanour  was 
obsequious  to  the  brink  of  servility ;  he  seems  on  no  occasron  to 
have  hesitated  on  the  execution  of  any  of  her  commands ;  and 
the  kind  of  tacit  compromise  by  which  he  and  Leicester,  in 
spite  of  their  mutual  animosity,  were  enabled  for  so  long  a 
course  of  years  to  hold  divided  empire  in  the  cabinet,  could  not 
hav  e  been  maintained  without  a  general  acquiescence  on  the 
part  of  Burleigh  in  the  various  malversations  and  oppressions  of 
that  guilty  minion. 

Another  accusation  brought  against  him  is,  that  of  taking 
money  for  ecclesiastical  preferments.  Of  the  truth  of  this 
charge,  sufficient  evidence  might  be  brought  from  original  docu- 
ments; but  an  apologist  would  urge  with  justice  that  his  royal 
mistress,  who  virtually  delegated  to  him  the  most  laborious  du- 
ties of  the  office  of  head  of  the  church,  both  expected  and  desir- 
ed that  emolument  should  thence  accrue  to  him  and  to  the  per- 
sons under  him.  Thus  we  find  it  stated  that  bishop  Fletcher  had 
"  bestowed  in  allowances  and  gratifications  to  divers  attendants 
about  her  majesty,  since  his  preferment  to  the  see  of  London, 
the  sum  of  thirty  one  hundred  pounds  or  there  abouts ;  which 
money  was  given  by  him,  for  the  most  part  of  it,  by  her  majes- 
ty's direction  and  special  appointment."* 

The  ministers  of  a  sovereign,  who  scrupled  not  to  accept  of 
bribes  from  parties  engaged  in  law-suits  for  the  exertion  of  her 

*  Bitch's  Memoirs. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


463 


own  interest  with  her  judges,  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  ex- 
hibil  much  delicacy  on  this  head.  In  fact,  the  venality  of  the 
court  of  Elizabeth  was  so  gross,  that  no  public  character  appears 
even  to  have  professed  a  disdain  of  the  influence  of  gifts  and 
bribes;  and  we  find  lord  Burleigh  inserting  the  following  among 
roll's  moral  and  prudential  drawn  up  for  the  use  of  his  son 
Robert  when  young:  "  Be  sure  to  keep  some  great  man  thy 
friend.  Hut  trouble  him  not  for  trifles.  Compliment  him  often. 
Present  him  with  many  yet  small  gifts,  and  of  little  charge. 
And  if  thou  have  cause  to  bestow  any  great  gratuity,  let  it  be 
some  such  thing  as  may  be  daily  in  his  sight.  Otherwise,  in 
this  ambitious  age,  thou  shalt  remain  as  a  hop  without  a  pole ; 
live  in  obscurity,  and  be  made  a  football  for  every  insulting 
companion."* 

In  his  oflice  of  lord  treasurer,  this  minister  is  allowed  to  have 
behaved  with  perfect  integrity,  and  to  have  permitted  no  oppres- 
sion on  the  subject;  wisely  and  honourably  maintaining  that 
nothing  could  be  for  the  advantage  of  a  sovereign  which  in  any 
way  injured  his  reputation.  His  conduct  in  this  high  post,  added 
to  a  general  opinion  of  his  prudence  and  virtue,  caused  his 
death  to  be  sincerely  deplored,  and  his  memory  to  be  constantly 
held  in  higher  esteem  by  the  people  than  that  of  any  former 
minister  of  any  English  prince. 

Elizabeth  was  deeply  sensible  that  to  her  the  loss  of  such  a 
servant,  counsellor,  and  friend  was  indeed  irreparable.  Con- 
trary to  her  custom,  she  wept  much;  and  retired  for  a  time  from 
all  company ;  and  it  is  said  that  to  the  end  of  her  life  she  could 
never  hear  or  pronounce  his  name  without  tears.  Although  she 
was  not  sufficiently  mistress  of  herself  in  those  fits  of  rage  to 
which  she  was  occasionally  liable,  to  refrain  from  treating  him 
with  a  harshness  and  contempt  which  sometimes  moved  the  old 
man  even  to  weeping,  her  behaviour  towards  him  satisfactorily 
evinced  on  the  whole  her  deep  sense  of  his  fidelity  and  various 
merits  as  a  minister,  and  her  affection  for  him  as  a  man.  He 

*  In  connexion  with  this  subject  the  following  letter  appears  worthy  of  notice. 

Mutton ,  Archbishop  of  York,  to  the  lord  treasurer: — 
I  am  bold  at  ibis  time  to  inform  your  lordship,  what  ill  success  I  had  in  a  suit  for 
a  pardon  for  Miles  Dawson,  seminary  priest,  whom  I  converted  wholly  the  last 
summer  from  popery.  Upon  hiscoming  to  church,  receiving  the  holy  communion 
and  taking  the  oath  of  supremacy,  I  and  the  council  here,  about  Michaelmas  last, 
joined  in  petition  to  her  majesty  for  her  gracious  pardon,  and  commended  the  mat- 
ter to  one  of  the  master  s  of  requests,  and  writ  also  to  Mr.  Secretary  to  further  it  if 
need  were,  which  he  willingly  promised  to  do.  In  Michaelmas  term  nothing  was 
done.  And  therefore  in  Hilary  term,  I  being  put  in  mind  that  all  was  not  done  in 
that  court  for  God's  sake  only,  sent  up  twenty  French  crowns  of  mine  own  purse, 
as  a  small  remembrance  for  a  poor  man's  pardon,  which  was  thankfully  accepted  of. 

Some  say  that  Mr.  TopclifFe  did  hinder  his  pardon  ;  who  protesteth  that  he 
knoweth  no  cause  to  stay  it.  There  is  some  fault  somewhere.  I  know  it  is  not 
in  her  majesty.  Of  whom  I  will  say,  as  the  prophet  David  speaketh  of  God,  M  Hath 
queen  Elizabeth  forgotten  to  be  gracious  ?  And  is  her  mercy  come  to  an  end  for 
evermore?"  Absit.  The  whole  world  knoweth  the  contrary.  Your  lordsbip  may 
do  very  well  in  mine  opinion  to  move  Mr.  Secretary  Cecil  to  deal  often  in  these 
works  of  mercy.  It  will  make  him  beloved  of  God  and  man. 
(Dated  York,  May  1597.) 


464 


THE  COURT  OF 


was  perhaps  the  only  person  of  humble  birth  whom  she  conde- 
scended to  honour  with  the  garter:  she  constantly  made  him  sit 
in  her  presence,  on  account  of  his  being  troubled  with  the  gout, 
and  would  pleasantly  tell  him,  "  My  lord,  we  make  much  of 
you,  not  for  your  bad  legs,  but  your  good  head."*  In  his  occa- 
sional fits  of  melancholy  and  retirement,  she  would  woo  him 
back  to  her  presence  by  kind  and  playful  letters,  and  she  abso- 
lutely refused  to  accept  of  the  resignation  which  his  bodily  infir- 
mities led  him  to  tender  two  or  three  years  before  his  death. 
She  constantly  visited  him  when  confined  by  sickness : — on  one 
of  these  occasions,  being  admonished  by  his  attendant  to  stoop 
as  she  entered  at  his  chamber-door,  she  replied,  "  For  your 
master's  sake  I  will,  though  not  for  the  king  of  Spain."  His 
lady  was  much  in  her  majesty's  favour  and  frequently  in  at- 
tendance on  her;  and  it  has  been  surmised  that  her  husband 
found  her  an  important  auxiliary  in  maintaining  his  influence. 

Elizabeth  had  the  weakness,  frequent  among  princes  and  not 
unusual  with  private  individuals,  of  hating  her  heir ;  a  senti- 
ment which  gained  ground  upon  her  daily  in  proportion  as  the 
infirmities  of  age  admonished  her  of  her  approach  towards  the 
destined  limit  of  her  long  and  splendid  course.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  respectful  observances  by  which  James  exerted  himself 
to  disguise  his  impatience  for  her  death,  particular  incidents 
occurred  from  time  to  time  to  aggravate  her  suspicion  and  exas- 
perate her  animosity ;  and  the  present  year  was  productive  of 
some  remarkable  circumstances  of  this  nature.  The  queen  had 
long  been  displeased  at  the  indulgence  exercised  by  the  king  of 
of  Scots  towards  certain  catholic  noblemen  by  whom  a  treason- 
able correspondence  had  been  carried  on  with  Spain,  and  a  very 
dangerous  conspiracy  formed  against  his  person  and  govern- 
ment. Such  misplaced  lenity,  combined  with  certain  negotia- 
tions which  he  carried  on  with  the  catholic  princes  of  Europe, 
she  regarded  as  evincing  a  purpose  to  secure  to  himself  an  in- 
terest with  the  popish  party  in  England  as  well  as  Scotland, 
which  she  could  not  view  without  anxiety :  And  her  worst  ap- 
prehensions were  now  confirmed  by  the  information  which 
reached  her  from  two  different  quarters,  that  James,  in  a  very 
respectful  letter  to  the  pope,  had  given*him  assurance  under  his 
own  hand  of  his  resolution  to  treat  his  catholic  subjects  with  in- 
dulgence, at  the  same  time  requesting  that  his  holiness  would 
give  a  cardinal's  hat  to  Drummond  bishop  of  Vaison.  Almost 
at  the  same  time,  one  Valentine  Thomas,  apprehended  in  Lon- 
don for  a  theft,  accused  the  king  of  Scots  of  some  evil  designs 
against  herself.  Explanations  however  being  demanded,  James 
solemnly  disavowed  the  letter  to  the  pope,  which  he  treated  as  a 
forgery  and  imposture ;  though  circumstances  which  came  out 
several  years  afterwards  rendered  the  king's  veracity  in  this 
point  very  questionable. 

To  the  charge  brought  by  Thomas,  he  returned  a  denial,  pro- 


Fuller. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


463 


bably  better  founded ;  and  required  that  the  accuser  should  be 
arraigned  in  presence  of  some  commissioner  whom  he  should 
send:  but  Elizabeth,  less  jealous  of  his  dealings  with  the  papal 
party  now  that  she  no  longer  dreaded  a  Spanish  invasion,  judged 
jit  more  prudent  to  bury  the  whole  matter  in  silence,  and  re- 
sumed, in  the  tone  of  friendship,  the  correspondence  which  she 
regularly  maintained  with  her  kinsman. 

This  Correspondence,  which  still  exists  in  MS.  in  the  Salisbury 
collection,  is  rendered  obscure  and  sometimes  unintelligible  by 
its  reference  to  verbal  messages,  which  the  bearers  of  the  letters 
were  commissioned  to  deliver  :  but  several  of  those  of  Elizabeth 
afford  a  rich  display  of  character.  She  sometimes  assures  James 
of  the  tenderness  of  her  affection  and  her  disinterested  zeal  for 
his  welfare,  in  that  tone  of  hypocrisy  which  was  too  congenial 
to  her  disposition ;  at  other  times  she  breaks  forth  into  vehe- 
ment invective  against  the  weakness  and  mutability  of  his  coun- 
sels, and  offers  him  excellent  instructions  in  the  art  of  reigning; 
but  clouded  by  her  usual  uncouth  and  obscure  phraseology,  and 
rendered  offensive  by  their  harsh  and  dictatorial  style.  When 
she  regards  herself  as  personally  injured  by  any  part  of  his  con- 
duct, her  complaints  are  seasoned  with  an  equal  portion  of  me- 
nace and  contempt ;  as  in  the  following  specimen; 

Queen  Elizabeth  to  the  king  of  Scots  s 

"  When  the  first  blast  of  a  strange,  unused,  and  seld  heard  of 
sound  had  pierced  my  ears,  I  supposed  that  flying  fame,  who, 
with  swift  quills  oft  paceth  with  the  worst,  had  brought  report 
of  some  untruth,  but  when,  too,  too  many  records  in  your  open 
parliament  were  witnesses  of  such  pronounced  words,  not  more 
to  my  disgrace  than  to  your  dishonour,  who  did  forget  that 
(above  all  other  regard)  a  prince's  word  ought  utter  nought  of  any, 
much  less  of  a  king,  than  such  as  to  which  truth  might  say  Amen: 
But  you,  neglecting  all  care  of  yourself,  what  danger  of  reproach, 
besides  somewhat  else,  might  light  upon  you,  have  chosen  so  un- 
seemly a  theme  to  charge  your  only  careful  friend  withal,  of 
such  matter  as  (were  you  not  amazed  in  all  senses)  could  not 
have  been  expected  at  your  hands;  of  such  imagined  untruths 
as  were  never  thought  of  in  our  time ;  and  do  wonder  what  evil 
spirits  have  possessed  you,  to  set  forth  so  infamous  devices  void  of 
any  show  of  truth.  I  am  sorry  that  you  have  so  wilfully  fallen 
from  your  best  stay,  and  will  needs  throw  yourself  into  the  hurl- 
pool  of  bottomless  discredit.  Was  the  haste  so  great  to  hie  to 
such  opprobry,  as  that  you  would  pronounce  a  never  thought  of 
action  afore  you  had  but  asked  the  question  of  her  that  best  could 
tell  it  ?  I  see  well  we  two  be  of  very  different  natures,  for  I 
vow  to  God  I  would  not  corrupt  my  tongue  with  an  unknown 
report  of  the  greatest  foe  I  have  ;  much  less  could  I  detract  my 
best  deserving  friend  with  a  spot  so  foul  as  scarcely  may  be  ever 
outrazed.  Could  you  root  the  desire  of  gifts  of  your  subjects 
upon  no  better  ground  than  this  quagmire,  which  to  pass  you* 

3N 


466 


THE  COURT  OF 


scarcely  may  without  the  slip  of  your  own  disgrace  ?  Shall  am- 
bassage  be  sent  to  foreign  princes  laden  with  instructions  of 
your  rash  advised  charge  ?  ....  I  never  yet  loved  you  so  little 
as  not  to  mourn  your  infamous  dealings,  which  you  are  in  mind, 
we  see,  that  myself  shall  possess  more  princes  witness  of  my 
causeless  injuries,  which  I  should  have  wished  had  passed  no 
seas  to  testify  such  memorials  of  your  wrongs.  Bethink  you  of 
such  dealings,  and  set  your  labour  upon  such  mends  as  best  may, 
though  not  right,  yet  salve  some  piece  of  this  overslip ;  and  be 
assured  that  you  deal  with  such  a  king  as  will  bear  no  wrongs 
and  endure  infamy;  the  examples  have  been  so  lately  seen  as 
they  can  hardly  be  forgotten  of  a  far  mightier  and  potenter  prince 
than  any  Europe  hath.  Look  you  not  therefore  that  without 
large  amends,  I  may  or  will  slupper  up  such  indignities.  We  have 
sent  this  bearer  Bowes,  whom  you  may  safely  credit,  to  signify 
such  particularities  as  fits  not  a  letter's  talk.  And  so  I  recom- 
mend you  to  a  better  mind  and  more  advised  conclusions." 
Dated  January  4th,  1597-1598.* 

From  another  of  these  letters  we  learn  that  James  had  ad- 
dressed a  love-sonnet  to  the  queen,  and  complained  of  her  hav- 
ing taken  no  notice  of  it ;  reminding  her  that  Cupid  was  a  God 
of  a  most  impatient  disposition. 

An  author  has  the  following  notice  respecting  sir  Roger  Aston, 
frequently  the  bearer  of  these  curious  epistles.  "  He  was  an 
Englishman  born,  but  had  his  breeding  wholly  in  Scotland,  and 
had  served  the  king  many  years  as  his  barber ;  an  honest  and 
free-hearted  man,  and  of  an  ancient  family  in  Cheshire,  but  of 
no  breeding  answerable  to  his  birth.  Yet  was  he  the  only  man 
ever  employed  as  a  messenger  from  the  king  to  queen  Elizabeth, 
as  a  letter-carrier  only,  which  expressed  their  own  intentions 
without  any  help  from  him,  besides  the  delivery ;  but  even  in 
that  capacity  was  in  very  good  esteem  with  her  majesty,  and 
received  very  royal  rewards,  which  did  enrich  him,  and  gave 
him  a  better  revenue  than  most  gentlemen  in  Scotland.  For 
the  queen  did  find  him  as  faithful  to  her  as  to  his  master,  in 
which  he  showed  much  wisdom,  though  of  no  breeding.  In  this 
his  employment  I  must  not  pass  over  one  pretty  passage  I  have 
heard  himself  relate.  That  he  did  never  come  to  deliver  any 
letters  from  his  master,  but  ever  he  was  placed  in  the  lobby ;  the 
hangings  being  turned  towards  him,  where  he  might  see  the 
queen  dancing  to  a  little  fiddle  ;  which  was  to  no  other  end  than 
that  he  should  tell  his  master,  by  her  youthful  disposition,  how 
likely  he  was  to  come  to  the  possession  of  the  crown  he  so  much 
thirsted  after  :  for  you  must  understand,  the  wisest  in  that  king- 
dom did  believe  the  king  should  never  enjoy  this  crown,  as  long 
as  there  was  an  old  wife  in  England,  which  they  did  believe  we 
ever  set  up  as  the  other  was  dead.,Jt 

*  M.S.  in  Di*.  Nnynes's  extracts  from  the  Salisbury  collection. — I  am  unahle  to- 
(Jiscovm-  to  what  particular  circumstance  this  angry  letter  refers, 
j*  Weklon's  Court  of  King  James. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


467 


Though  in  her  own  letters  to  James,  Elizabeth  made  no  scru- 
pie  of  treating  him  as  the  destined  heir  to  her  throne,  she  still 
resisted  with  as  much  pertinacity  as  ever,  all  the  proposals  made 
her  for  publicly  declaring  a  successor ;  and  on  this  subject,  a 
lively  anecdote  is  related  by  sir  John  Harrington  in  his  account 
of  liutton  archbishop  of  York,  which  must  belong  to  the  year 
1595  or  1596. 

"  I  no  sooner,"  says  he,  "  remember  this  famous  and  worthy 
prelate,  but  methinks  J  see  him  in  the  chapel  at  Whitehall, 
queen  Elizabeth  at  the  window  in  the  closet ;  all  the  lords  of 
the  parliament  spiritual  and  temporal  about  them,  and  then,  after 
his  three  curtsies  that  I  hear  him  out  of  the  pulpit  thundering 
this  text,  «  The  kingdoms  of  the  earth  are  mine,  and  I  do  give 
them  to  whom  I  will,  and  I  have  given  them  to  Nebuchodonosor 
and  his  son,  and  his  son's  son  :'  which  text  when  he  had  thus 
produced,  taking  the  sense  rather  than  words  of  the  prophet, 
there  followed  first  so  general  a  murmur  of  one  friend  whisper- 
ing to  another,  then  such  an  erected  countenance  in  those  that 
had  none  to  speak  to,  lastly,  so  quiet  a  silence  and  attention  in 
expectance  of  some  strange  doctrine,  where  text  itself  gave 
away  kingdoms  and  sceptres,  as  I  have  never  observed  before 
or  since. 

"  But  he  ....  showed  how  there  were  two  special  causes  of 
translating  of  kingdoms,  the  fullness  of  time  and  the  ripeness 
of  sin  ... .  Then  coming  nearer  home,  he  showed  how  oft  our 
nation  had  been  a  prey  to  foreigners ;  as  first  when  we  were  all 
Britons  subdued  by  these  Romans  ;  then,  when  the  fullness  of 
time  and  ripeness  of  our  sin  required  it,  subdued  by  the  Saxons  ; 
after  this  a  long  time  prosecuted  and  spoiled  by  the  Danes, 
finally  conquered  and  reduced  to  perfect  subjection  by  the  Nor- 
mans, whose  posterity  continued  in  great  prosperity  to  the  days 
of  her  majesty,  who  for  peace,  for  plenty,  for  glory,  for  continu- 
ance, had  exceeded  them  all ;  that  had  lived  to  change  all  her 
councillors  but  one ;  all  officers  twice  or  thrice ;  some  bishops 
four  times  :  only  the  uncertainty  of  succession  gave  hopes  to 
foreigners  to  attempt  fresh  invasions  and  breed  fears  in  many 
of  her  subjects  of  a  new  conquest.  The  only  way  then,  said  he, 
that  is  in  policy  left  to  quail  those  hopes  and  to  assuage  those 

fears,  were  to  establish  the  succession  at  last,  insinuating 

as  far  as  he  durst  the  nearness  of  blood  of  our  present  sovereign, 
he  said  plainly,  that  the  expectations  and  presages  of  all  writers 
went  northward,  naming  without  any  circumlocution  Scotland  ; 
which,  said  he,  if  it  prove  an  error,  yet  will  it  be  found  a  learn- 
ed error. 

"  When  he  had  finished  this  sermon,  there  was  no  man  that 
knew  queen  Elizabeth's  disposition,  but  imagined  that  such  a 
speech  was  as  welcome  as  salt  to  the  eyes,  or,  to  use  her  own 
word,  to  pin  up  her  winding  sheet  before  her  face,  so  to  point  out 
her  successor  and  urge  her  to  declare  him  ;  wherefore  we  all 
expected  that  she  would  not  only  have  been  highly  offended,  but 


468  THE  COURT  OF 


in  some  present  speech  have  showed  her  displeasure.  It  is  a 
principle  not  to  be  despised,  Qui  nescit  dissimulare  nescit  reg~ 
nave;  she  considered  perhaps  the  extraordinary  auditory,  she 
supposed  many  of  them  were  of  his  opinion,  she  might  suspect 
some  of  them  had  persuaded  him  to  this  notion ;  finally  she  as- 
cribed so  much  to  his  years,  to  his  place,  to  his  learning,  that 
when  she  opened  the  window  we  found  ourselves  all  deceived ; 
for  very  kindly  and  calmly,  without  shew  of  offence  (as  if  she 
had  but  waked  out  of  some  sleep)  she  gave  him  thanks  for  his 
very  learned  sermon.  Yet  when  she  had  better  considered  the 
matter,  and  recollected  herself  in  private,  she  sent  two  council- 
lors to  him  with  a  sharp  message,  to  which  he  was  glad  to  give 
a  patient  answer.'' 

The  premature  death  of  Edmund  Spenser,  under  circumstan- 
ces of  severe  distress,  now  called  forth  the  universal  commisera- 
tion and  regret  of  the  friends  and  patrons  of  English  genius. 
After  witnessing  the  plunder  of  his  house  and  the  destruction 
of  his  whole  property  by  the  Irish  rebels,  the  unfortunate  poet 
had  fled  to  England  for  shelter, — the  annuity  of  fifty  pounds 
which  he  enjoyed  as  poet-laureat  to  her  majesty  apparently  his 
sole  resource  ;  and  having  taken  up  his  melancholy  abode  in  an 
obscure  lodging  in  London,  he  pined  away  under  the  pressure 
of  penury  and  despondence. 

The  genius  of  this  great  poet,  formed  on  the  most  approved 
models  of  the  time,  and  exercised  upon  themes  peculiarly  con- 
genial to  its  taste,  received  in  all  its  plentitude  that  homage  of 
contemporary  applause  which  has  sometimes  failed  to  reward 
the  efforts  of  the  noblest  masters  of  the  lyre.    The  adventures 
of  chivalry,  and  the  dim  shadowings  of  moral  allegory,  were 
almost  equally  the  delight  of  a  romantic,  a  serious,  and  a  learned 
age     It  was  also  a  point  of  loyalty  to  admire  in  Gloriana  queen 
of  Faery,  or  in  the  empress  Mercilla,  the  avowed  types  of  the 
graces  and  virtues  of  her  majesty ;  and  she  herself  had  discern- 
ment sufficient  to  distinguish  between  the  brazen  trump  of  vulgar 
flattery  with  which  her  ear  was  sated,  and  the  pastoral  reed  of 
antique  frame  tuned  sweetly  to  her  praise  by  Colin  Clout.  Spen- 
ser was  interred  with  great  solemnity  in  Westminster  abbey  by 
the  side  of  Chaucer ;  the  generous  Essex  defraying  the  cost  of 
the  funeral  and  walking  himself  as  a  mourner.  That  ostentatious 
but  munificent  woman,  Anne  countess  of  Dorset,  Pembroke,  and 
Montgomery,  erected  a  handsome  monument  to  his  memory  seve- 
ral years  afterwards ;  the  brother-poets  who  attended  his  obse- 
quies threw  elegies  and  sonnets  into  the  grave  ;  and  of  the  more 
distinguished  votaries  of  the  muse  in  that  day,  there  is  scarcely 
one  who  has  withheld  his  tribute  to  the  fame  and  merit  of  this 
delightful  author.  Shakespeare  m  one  of  his  sonnets  had  already 
testified  his  high  delight  in  his  works  ;  Joseph  Hall,  afterwards 
eminent  as  a  bishop,  a  preacher,  and  polemic,  but  at  this  time  a 
young  student  of  Emanuel  college,  has  more  than  one  compli- 
mentary allusion  to  the  poems  of  Spenser  in  his  "  Toothless  Sa- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


469 


tires"  printed  in  1597.  Thus,  in  the  invocation  to  his  first  satire, 
referring  to  Spenser's  description  of  the  marriage  of  the  Thame* 
and  Medway,  he  inquires, 

 "  what  baser  Muse  can  bide 

To  sit  and  sing  by  Granta's  naked  side  ? 
They  haunt  the  tided  Thames  and  salt  Medway, 
E'er  since  the  fame  of  their  late  bridal  day. 
Nought  have  we  here  but  willow-shaded  shore. 
To  tell  our  Grant  his  banks  are  left  forlore." 

And  again,  in  ridiculing  the  imitation  of  some  of  the  more 
rxtiavagant  fictions  of  the  Orlando  Furioso,  he  thus  suddenly 
checks  himself : 

"  But  let  no  rebel  satyr  dare  traduce 
Th*  eternal  legends  of  thy  faery  muse, 
Renowned  Spenser  !  whom  no  earthly  wight 
Dares  once  to  emulate,  much  less  dares  despight. 
Salust  of  France*  and  Tuscan  Ariost, 
Yield  up  the  laurel  garland  ye  have  lost." 

These  pieces  of  Hall,  reprinted  in  1599,  with  three  additional 
books  under  the  uncouth  title  of  "  Virgidemiarum"  (a  harvest  of 
rods,)  present  the  earliest  example  in  our  language  of  regular 
satire  on  the  ancient  model,  and  have  gained  from  an  excellent 
poetical  critic  the  following  high  eulogium:  "These  satires  are 
marked  with  a  classical  precision,  to  which  English  poetry  had 
yet  rarely  attained;  They  are  replete  with  animation  of  style 
and  sentiment.  The  indignation  of  the  satirist  is  always  the 
result  of  good  sense.  Nor  are  the  thorns  of  severe  invective 
unmixed  with  the  flowers  of  pure  poetry.  The  characters  arc 
delineated  in  strong  and  lively  colouring,  and  their  discrimina- 
tions are  touched  with  the  masterly  traces  of  genuine  humour. 
The  versification  is  equally  energetic  and  elegant,  and  the  fabric 
of  the  couplets  approaches  to  the  modern  standard."t 

A  few  of  his  allusions  to  reigning  follies  may  here  be  quoted. 
Contrasting  the  customs  of  our  barbarous  ancestors  with  those 
of  his  own  times,  he  says  : 

".  They  naked  went,  or  clad  in  ruder  hide, 
Or  homespun  russet  void  of  foreign  pride. 
But  thou  can'st  mask  in  garish  gaudery, 
To  suit  a  fool's  far  fetched  livery. 
A  French  head  joined  to  neck  Italian, 
Thy  thighs  from  Germany,  and  breast  from  Spain. 

*  Du  Bartas,  ihen  an  admired  writer  in  England  as  well  as  France 
\  Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  iv. 


470 


THE  COURT  OF 


An  Englishman  in  none,  a  fool  in  all, 
Many  in  one,  and  one  in  several." 

Shakespeare  makes  Portia  satirise  the  same  affectation  in  her 
English  admirer  ; — "  How  oddly  he  is  suited  !  I  think  he  bought 
his  doublet  in  Italy,  his  round  hose  in  France,  his  bonnet  in 
Germany,  and  his  behaviour  every  where." 

Other  contemporary  writers  have  similar  allusions,  and  it 
may  be  concluded,  that  the  passion  for  travelling  then,  and  ever 
since,  so  prevalent  amongst  the  English  youth,  was  fast  eradi- 
cating all  traces  of  a  national  costume  by  rendering  fashionable 
the  introduction  of  novel  garments,  capriciously  adopted  by 
turns  from  every  country  of  Europe. 

"  Cadiz  spoil"  is  more  than  once  referred  to  by  Hall ;  and 
amongst  expedients  for  raising  a  fortune,  he  enumerates,  with  a 
satirical  glance  at  sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  trading  to  Guiana  for 
gold  ;  as  also  the  search  of  the  philosopher's  stone.  He  likewise 
ridicules  the  costly  mineral  elixirs  of  marvellous  virtues  vended 
by  alchemical  quacks  ;  and  with  sounder  sense  in  this  point  than 
usually  belonged  to  his  age  mocks  at  the  predictions  of  judicial 
astrology. 

In  several  passages  he  reprehends  the  new  luxuries  of  the 
time,  among  which  coaches  are  not  forgotten. 

It  should  appear  that  the  increasing  conveniences  and  plea- 
sures of  a  London  life  had  already  begun  to  occasion  the  deser- 
tion of  rural  mansions,  and  the  decay  of  that  boundless  hospi- 
tality which  the  former  possessors  had  made  their  boast ;  for  thus 
feelingly  and  beautifully  does  the  poet  describe  the  desolation  of 
one  of  these  seats  of  antiquated  magnificence  : 

"  Beat  the  broad  gates,  a  goodly  hollow  sound 
With  double  echoes  doth  again  rebound  ; 
But  not  a  dog  doth  bark  to  welcome  thee, 
Nor  churlish  porter  can'st  thou  chafing  see ; 
All  dumb  and  silent  like  the  dead  of  night, 
Or  dwelling  of  some  sleepy  Sybarite  I 
The  marble  pavement  hid  with  desert  weed, 
With  houseleek,  thistle,  dock,  and  hemlock  seed.— 
Look  to  the  towered  chimnies  which  should  be 
The  windpipes  of  good  hospitality  : — 
Lo  there  the  unthankful  swallow  takes  her  rest, 
And  fills  the  tunnel  with  her  circled  nest.'' 

The  translation  of  the  Orlando  Furioso  through  which  that 
singular  work  of  genius  had  just  become  known  to  the  English 
reader,  was  executed  by  sir  John  Harrington,  the  same  who 
afterwards  composed  for  Henry  prince  of  Wales  the  Brief  View 
of  the  English  Church,  the  godson  of  Elizabeth,  and  the  child 
of  her  faithful  servants  James  Harrington  and  Isabella  Markham- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


471 


After  the  usual  course  of  school  and  college  education,  young 
Harrington,  who  was  born  in  15G1,  presented  himself  at  court, 
where  his  wit  and  learning  soon  procured  him  a  kind  of  distinc- 
tion, which  was  not  however  unattended  with  danger.  A  satirical 
piece  was  traced  to  him  as  its  author,  containing  certain  allusions 
to  living  characters,  which  gave  so  much  offence  to  the  courtiers, 
that  he  was  threatened  with  the  animadversions  of  the  star- 
chamber  ;  but  the  secret  favour  of  Elizabeth  towards  a  godson 
whom  she  loved  and  who  amused  her,  saved  him  from  this  very 
serious  kind  of  retaliation.  A  tale  which  he  some  time  after 
translated  out  of  Ariosto  proved  very  entertaining  to  the  court 
ladies,  and  soon  met  the  eyes  of  the  queen  ;  who,  in  affected  dis- 
pleasure at  certain  indelicate  passages,  ordered  him  to  appear 
no  more  at  court — till  he  had  translated  the  whole  poem.  The 
command  was  obeyed  with  alacrity  ;  and  he  speedily  committed 
his  Orlando  to  the  press,  with  a  dedication  to  her  majesty.  Be- 
fore this  time  our  sprightly  poet  had  found  means  to  dissipate  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  large  estate  to  which  he  was  born ; 
and  being  well  inclined  to  listen  to  the  friendly  counsels  of 
Essex,  who  bade  him  "lay  good  hold  on  her  majesty's  bounty 
and  ask  freely,"  he  dexterously  opened  his  case  by  the  following 
lines  slipped  behind  her  cushion: 

"  For  ever  dear,  for  ever  dreaded  prince, 
You  read  a  verse  of  mine  a  little  since, 
And  so  pronounced  each  word  and  every  letter, 
Your  gracious  reading  graced  my  verse  the  better : 
Sith  then  your  highness  doth  by  gift  exceeding 
Make  what  you  read  the  better  for  your  reading ; 
Let  my  poor  muse  your  pains  thus  far  importune, 
Like  as  you  read  my  verse,  so — read  my  fortune." 

From  your  Highness*  saucy  Godson" 

Of  the  further  progress  of  his  suit  and  the  various  little  arts 
of  pleasing  to  which  Harrington  now  applied  himself,  some 
amusing  hints  may  be  gathered  out  of  the  following  extracts 
taken  from  a  note-book  kept  by  himself.* 

.  .  .  .  "  1  am  to  send  good  store  of  news  from  the  country 

for  her  highness'  entertainment  Her  highness  loveth 

merry  tales." 

"  The  queen  stood  up  and  bade  me  reach  forth  my  arm  to  rest 
her  thereon.  O  !  what  sweet  burthen  to  my  next  song.  Petrarch 
shall  eke  out  good  matter  for  this  business  " 

"  The  queen  loveth  to  see  me  in  my  new  frize  jerkin,  and 
saith  it  is  well  enough  cut.  I  will  have  another  made  liken  to 
it.  I  do  remember  she  spit  on  sir  Matthew's  fringed  cloth,  and 
said  the  fool's  wit  was  gone  to  rags. — Heaven  spare  me  from 
such  gibing  !" 


*  See  Nugsc  Antique, 


472 


THE  COURT  OF 


"  I  must  turn  my  poor  wits  towards  my  suit  for  the  lands  iu 

the  north  I  must  go  in  an  early  hour,  before  her  highness 

jg»  hath  special  matters  brought  up  to  counsel  on. — I  must  go  before 
the  breakfast  covers  are  placed,  and  stand  uncovered  as  her 
highness  cometh  forth  her  chamber ;  then  kneel  and  say,  God 
save  your  majesty,  I  crave  your  ear  at  what  hour  may  suit  for 
your  servant  to  meet  your  blessed  countenance.  Thus  will  I 
gain  her  favour  to  follow  to  the  auditory, 

"  Trust  not  a  friend  to  do  or  say, 
In  that  yourself  can  sue  or  pray." 

The  lands  alluded  to  in  the  last  extract  formed  a  large  estate 
in  the  north  of  England,  which  an  ancestor  of  Harrington  had 
forfeited  by  his  adherence  to  the  house  of  York  during  the  civil 
wars,  and  which  he  was  now  endeavouring  to  recover.  This 
further  mention  of  the  business  occurs  in  one  of  his  letters. 

"  Yet  I  will  adventure  to  give  her  majesty  five  hundred  pounds 
in  money,  and  some  pretty  jewel  or  garment,  as  you  shall  advise, 
only  praying  her  majesty  to  further  my  suit  with  some  of  her 
learned  counsel ;  which  I  pray  you  to  find  some  proper  time  to 
move  in;  this  some  hold  as  a  dangerous  adventure,  but  five  and 
twenty  manors  do  well  justify  my  trying  it." 

How  notorious  must  have  been  the  avarice  and  venality  of  a 
sovereign,  before  such  a  mode  of  insuring  success  in  a  law-suit 
could  have  entered  into  the  imagination  of  a  courtier  ! 

But  the  fortunes  of  Harrington,  as  of  persons  of  more  impor- 
tance, now  become  involved  in  the  state  of  Irish  affairs,  to  which 
the  attention  of  the  reader  must  immediately  be  directed. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


1599  to  1603. 

Irish  affairs. — Essex  appointed  lord  deputy. — His  letter  to  the 
queen. — Letter  of  Markham  to  Harrington. — Departure  of  Es- 
sex and  proceedings  in  Ireland. — His  letter  to  the  privy  coun- 
cil, — conferences  with  Tyrone, — unexpected  arrival  at  court. — 
Behaviour  of  the  queen. — State  of  parties. — Letters  of  sir  J. 
Harrington, — Further  particulars  respecting  Essex. — His  letter 
of  submission. — Relentlessness  of  the  queen. — Sir  John  Hay- 
ward's  history. — Second  letter  of  Essex. — Censure  passed  upon 
him  in  council. — Anecdote  of  the  queen. — Essex  liberated. — Re- 
ception  of  a  Flemish  ambassador. — Discontent  of  Raleigh. — 
Traits  of  the  queen. — Letter  of  sir  Robert  Sidney  to  sir  John 
Harrington. — Crisis  of  the  fortune  of  Essex. — Conduct  of  lord 
Montjoy. — Proceedings  at  Essex  house. — Revolt  of  Essex. — 
He  defends  his  house. — Is  taken  and  committed  to  the  Tower. 
— His  trial  and  that  of  lord  Southampton. — Conduct  of  Bacon. 
— Confessions  oj  Essex. — Behaviour  of  the  queen. — Death  of 
Essex. — Fate  of  his  adherents. — Reception  of  the  Scotch  am- 
bassadors. — Interview  of  the  queen  and  Sully. — Irish  affairs. — 
Letter  of  sir  John  Harrington. — A  parliament  summoned. — 
Affair  of  monopolies. — Quarrel  between  the  Jesuits  and  secular 
priests. — Conversation  of  the  queen  respecting  Essex. — Letter 
of  sir  J.  Harrington. — Submission  of  Tyrone. — Melancholy  of 
Elizabeth. — Story  of  the  ring. — Her  death. — Additional  traits 
of  her  character. — Her  eulogy  by  bishop  Hall. 

The  death  in  September  1598,  of  Philip  II.,  and  the  succes- 
sion of  the  feeble  Philip  III.,  under  whom  the  Spanish  monarchy 
advanced  with  accelerated  steps  towards  its  decline,  had  finally 
released  the  queen  from  all  apprehensions  of  foreign  invasion, 
and  left  her  at  liberty  to  turn  her  whole  attention  to  the  pacifi- 
cation of  Ireland.  The  state  of  that  island  was  in  every  respect 
deplorable: — the  whole  province  of  Ulster  in  open  rebellion 
under  Tyrone ; — the  rest  of  the  country  only  waiting  for  the 
succours  from  the  pope  and  the  king  of  Spain,  which  the  cre- 
dulous natives  were  still  taught  to  expect,  to  join  openly  in  the 
revolt ;  and  in  the  meantime  reduced  to  such  a  state  of  despair 
by  innumerable  oppressions  and  by  the  rumour  of  further  severi- 
ties meditated  by  the  queen  of  England,  that  it  seemed  prepared 
to  oppose  the  most  obstinate  resistance  to  every  measure  of 
government.  In  what  manner  and  by  whom,  this  wretched  pro- 
vince should  be  brought  back  to  its  allegiance,  had  been  the 
subject  of  frequent  and  earnest  debates  in  the  privy-council ;  in  c 


474 


THE  COURT  OF 


which  Essex  had  vehemently  reprobated  the  conduct  of  former 
governors  in  wasting  time  on  inferior  objects,  instead  of  first  un- 
dertaking the  reduction  of  Tyrone,  and  appears  to  have  spared  no 
pains  to  impress  the  queen  with  an  opinion  of  the  superior  just- 
ness of  his  own  views  of  the  subject.  Elizabeth  believed,  and 
with  reason,  that  she  discovered  in  lord  Montjoy,  talents  not 
unequal  to  the  arduous  office  of  lord  deputy  at  so  critical  a 
juncture ;  but  when  the  greater  part  of  her  council  appeared  to 
concur  in  the  choice,  Essex  insinuated  a  variety  of  objections ; 
— that  the  experience  of  Montjoy  in  military  matters  was  small ; 
— that  neither  in  the  Low  Countries  nor  in  Bretagne,  where  he 
had  served,  had  he  attained  to  any  principal  or  independent  com- 
mand ; — that  his  retainers  were  few  or  none;  his  purse  inade- 
quately furnished  for  the  first  expenses  of  so  high  an  appoint- 
ment ;  and  that  he  was  too  much  addicted  to  a  sedentary  and 
studious  life.  By  this  artful  enumeration  of  the  deficiencies  of 
Montjoy,  he  was  clearly  understood  to  intimate  his  own  supe- 
rior fitness  for  the  office.  The  queen,  notwithstanding  certain 
suspicions  which  had  been  infused  into  her  of  danger  in  com- 
mitting to  Essex  the  command  of  an  army,  and  notwithstanding 
the  unwillingness  which  she  still  felt  to  deprive  herself  of  his  pre- 
sence, appears  to  have  adopted  with  eagerness  this  suggestion 
of  her  favourite  ; — for  she  heid  in  high  estimation  both  his  talents 
and  his  good  fortune.  Montjoy  promptly  retired  from  a  compe- 
tition in  which  he  must  be  unsuccessful;  the  adherents  of  the 
earl,  except  a  few  of  the  more  sagacious,  eagerly  forwarded  his 
appointment  with  imprudent  eulogiums  of  his  valour  and  his 
genius,  and  still  more  imprudent  anticipations  of  his  certain  and 
complete  success.  His  enemies,  desirous  of  his  absence  and 
hopeful  of  his  failure,  concurred  with  no  less  zeal  in  the  pro- 
motion of  his  wishes;  and  he  soon  found  himself  importuned  on 
every  side  to  accept  the  command.  But  it  now  became  his  part 
to  make  objections ; — perhaps  he  began  to  open  his  eyes  to  the 
difficulties  to  be  confronted  in  Ireland  ; — perhaps  he  penetrated 
too  late  the  designs  and  expectations  of  his  adversaries  at  home; 
—perhaps,  for  his  character  was  not  free  from  artifice,  he  chose 
by  a  display  of  reluctance  to  enhance  in  the  eyes  of  his  sove- 
reign the  merit  of  his  final  acquiescence.  However  this  might 
be,  the  difficulties  which  he  raised  kept  the  business  for  some 
time  in  suspense.  Secretary  Cecil  observed,  in  a  letter  of  De- 
cember 4th,  1598,  that  "  the  opinion  of  the  earl's  going  to  Ire- 
land had  some  stop,  by  reason  of  his  lordship's  indisposition  to 
it*  except  with  some  such  conditions  as  were  disagreeable  to  her 
majesty's  mind ;"  "  although,"  he  added,  "  the  cup  will  hardly 
pass  from  him  in  regard  of  his  worth  and  fortune:  but  if  it  do, 
my  lord  Montjoy  is  named."* 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  the  debates  and  contentions  on  this 
matter  that  Essex  endeavoured  to  work  upon  the  feelings  of 
Elizabeth  by  the  following  romantic  but  eloquent  address. 


Birch. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


475 


"  To  the  Queen. 
"  From  a  mind  delighting  in  sorrow,  from  spirits  wasted  with 
passion,  from  a  heart  lorn  in  pieces  with  care,  grief  and  travel, 
from  a  man  that  hateth  himself  and  all  things  else  that  keep  him 
alive,  what  service  can  jour  majesty  expect;  since  any  service 
past  deserves  no  more  than  banishment  and  proscription  to  the 
oursedest  of  all  islands  ?  It  is  your  rebels'  pride,  and  succession 
must  give  me  leave  to  ransom  myself  out  of  this  hateful  prison, 
out  of  my  loathed  body;  which,  if  it  happeneth  so,  your  majesty 
shall  have  no  cause  to  mislike  the  fashion  of  my  death,  since  the 
course  of  my  life  could  never  please  you. 

Happy  could  he  finish  forth  his  fate 

In  some  unhaunted  desert  most  obscure 
From  all  society,  from  love  and  hate 

Of  worldly  folk;  then  should  he  sleep  secure. 
Then  wake  again,  and  yield  God  ever  praise, 

Content  with  hips  and  haws  and  brambleberry  ; 
In  contemplation  passing  out  his  days, 

And  change  of  holy  thoughts  to  make  him  merry. 
Who  when  he  dies,  his  tomb  may  be  a  bush, 

Where  harmless  robin  dwells  with  gentle  thrush." 

"  Your  majesty's  exiled  servant, 
"  Robert  Essex." 

It  seems  also  to  have  been  at  this  juncture  that  on  some  pub- 
lic occasion  he  bore  a  plain  mourning  shield,  with  the  words, 
"  Par  nulla  figura  dolori  " 

A  very  sensible  and  friendly  letter  addressed  to  Harrington, 
by  his  relation  Robert  Markham,  may  serve  to  throw  additional 
light  on  the  situation  and  sentiments  of  Essex,  and  on  the  state 
of  court  parties. 

Mr.  Robert  Markham  to  John  Harrington,  Esquire. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  perilous  state  of  our  times,  I  shall 
not  fail  to  give  you  such  intelligence  and  advices  of  our  mat- 
ters here  as  may  tend  to  your  use  and  benefit.  We  have  gotten 
good  account  of  some  matters,  and  as  I  shall  find  some  safe  con- 
duct for  bearing  them  to  you,  it  may  from  time  to  time  happen 
that  I  send  tidings  of  our  courtly  concerns. 

"  Since  your  departure  from  hence,  you  have  been  spoken  of, 
and  with  no  ill  will,  both  by  the  nobles  and  the  queen  herself. 
Your  book  is  almost  forgiven,  and  I  may  say  forgotten  ;  but  not 
for  its  lack  of  wit  or  satire.  Those  whom  you  feared  most  are 
now  bosoming  themselves  in  the  queen's  grace  ;  and  though  her 
highness  signified  displeasure  in  outward  sort,  yet  did  she  like 
the  marrow  of  your  book.  Your  great  enemy,  sir  James,  did 
once  mention  the  star-chamber,  but  your  good  esteem  in  better 
minds  outdid  his  endeavours,  and  all  is  silent  again.  The  queen 


476 


THE  COURT  OF 


is  minded  to  take  you  to  her  favour,  but  she  sweareth  that  she 
beliexes  you  will  make  epigrams  and  write  misacmos  again  on 
her  and  all  the  court.  She  hath  been  heard  to  say,  *  that  merry 
poet,  her  godson,  must  not  come  to  Greenwich  till  he  hath  grown 
sober  and  leaveth  the  ladies'  sports  and  frolics.'  She  did  con- 
ceive much  disquiet  on  being  told  you  had  aimed  a  shaft  at  Lei- 
cester ;  T  wish  you  knew  the  author  of  that  ill  deed  ;  I  would 
not  be  in  his  best  jerkin  for  a  thousand  marks.  You  yet  stand 
well  in  her  highness'  love,  and  I  hear  you  are  to  go  to  Ireland 
with  the  lieutenant  Essex  ;  if  so,  mark  my  counsel  in  this  matter. 
I  doubt  not  your  valour  nor  your  labour,  but  thatd  e  unco- 
vered honesty  will  mar  your  fortunes.  Observe  the  man  who 
commandeth,  and  yet  is  commanded  himself;  he  goethnot  forth 
to  serve  the  queen's  realm,  but  to  humour  his  own  revenge.  Be 
heedful  of  your  bearings,  speak  not  your  mind  to  all  you  meet. 
I  tell  you  I  have  ground  for  my  caution  :  Essex  hath  enemies ; 
he  hath  friends  too.  Now  there  are  two  or  three  of  Montjoy's 
kindred  sent  out  in  your  army  ;  they  are  to  report  all  your  con- 
duct to  us  at  home.  As  you  love  yourself,  the  queen  and  me, 
discover  not  these  matters  ;  if  I  did  not  love  you,  they  had  never 
been  told.  High  concerns  deserve  high  attention  ;  you  are  to 
take  account  of  all  that  passes  in  your  expedition,  and  keep 
journal  thereof,  unknown  to  any  in  the  company  ;  this  will  be 
expected  of  you  ;  I  have  reasons  to  give  for  this  order. 

"  If  the  lord  deputy  performs  in  the  fie|xl  what  he  hath  pro- 
mised in  the  council,  all  will  be  well ;  but  though  the  queen  hath 
granted  forgiveness  for  his  late  demeanour  in  her  presence;  we 
know  not  what  to  think  hereof.  She  hath,  in  all  outward  sem- 
blance, placed  confidence  in  the  man  who  so  lately  sought  other 
treatment  at  her  hands  ;  we  do  sometime  think  one  way,  and 
sometime  another  :  what  betideth  the  lord  deputy  is  known  to 
him  only  who  knoweth  all  ;  but  when  a  man  hath  so  many  show- 
ing friends,  and  so  many  unshowing  enemies,  who  learneth  his 
end  here  below  ?  I  say,  do  not  you  meddle  in  any  sort,  nor 
give  your  jestir.g  too  freely  among  those  you  know  not :  obey 
the  lord  deputy  in  all  things,  but  give  not  your  opinion ;  it  may 
be  heard  in  England.  Though  you  obey,  yet  seem  not  to  advise  in 
any  one  point ;  your  obeysance  may  be,  and  must  be  construed 
well ;  but  your  counsel  may  be  ill  thought  of  if  any  bad  business 
follow. 

"  You  have  now  a  secret  from  one  that  wishes  you  all  welfare 
and  honour;  I  know  there  are  overlookers  set  on  you  all,  so 
God  direct  your  discretion.  Sir  William  Knolles  is  not  well 
pleased,  the  queen  is  not  well  pleased,  the  lord  deputy  may  be 
pleased  now,  but  T  sore  fear  what  may  happen  hereafter.  The 
heart  of  man  lieth  close  hid  oft  time,  men  do  not  carry  it  in 
their  hand,  nor  should  they  do  so  that  wish  to  thrive,  in  these 
times  and  in  these  places  ;  I  say  this  that  your  own  honesty 
may  not  show  itself  too  much,  and  turn  to  your  own  ill  favour. 
Stifle  your  understanding  as  much  as  may  be  ;  mind  your  books 
and  make  your  jests,  but  take  heed  who  they  light  on.    My  love 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


477 


hath  overcome  almost  my  confidence  and  trust,  which  my  truth 
aiul  place  demandeth.  I  have  said  too  much  for  one  in  my  de- 
pendent occupation,  and  yet  too  little  for  a  friend  and  kinsman, 
who  putteth  himself  to  this  hard  trial  for  your  advantage.  You 
have  difficult  matters  to  encounter  beside  Tyrone  and  the  rebels  ; 
there  is  little  heed  to  be  had  to  show  of  affection  in  state  busi- 
ness ;  1  find  this  by  those  I  discourse  with  daily,  and  those  too 
of  the  wiser  sort.  If  my  lord  treasurer  had  lived  longer,  mat- 
ters would  go  on  surer.  He  was  our  great  pilot,  on  whom  all 
cast  their  eyes,  and  sought  their  safety.  The  queen's  highness 
dotli  often  speak  of  him  in  tears,  and  turn  aside  when  he  is 
discoursed  of;  nay,  even  forbiddeth  any  mention  to  be  made  of 
his  name  in  the  council.  This  I  learn  by  some  friends  who  are 
in  good  liking  with  my  lord  Buckhurst.* 

"  My  sister  beareth  this  to  you,  but  doth  not  know  what  it 
containeth,  nor  would  I  disclose  my  dealings  to  any  woman  in 
this  sort ;  for  danger  goeth  abroad,  aud  silence  is  the  safest 
armour,"&c.t 

Such  were  the  bodings  of  distant  evil  with  which  the  more  dis- 
cerning contemplated  the  new  and  arduous  enterprise  in  which 
the  ambition  of  Essex  had  engaged  him  !  in  the  meantime,  all 
things  conspired  to  delude  him  into  a  false  security  and  to  aug- 
ment that  presumption  which  formed  the  most  dangerous  defect 
of  his  character.  All  the  obstacles  which  had  delayed  his  ap- 
pointment were  gradually  smoothed  away  ;  the  queen  consented 
to  invest  him  with  powers  far  more  ample  than  had  ever  been 
conferred  on  a  lord  deputy  before  ;  all  his  requisitions  of  men 
and  other  supplies  were  complied  with  ;  and  an  army  of  20,000 
foot  and  1,300  horse,  afterwards  increased  to  2,000, — afar  larger 
force  than  Ireland  had  yet  beheld, — was  placed  at  his  disposal. 

At  parting,  the  tenderness  of  the  queen  revived  in  full  force ; 
and  she  dismissed  him  with  expressions  of  regret  and  affection 
which,  as  he  afterwards  professed  to  her,  had  "  pierced  his  very 
souh"  The  people  followed  him  with  acclamations  and  blessings ; 
and  the  flower  of  the  nobility  now,  as  in  the  Cadiz  expedition, 
attended  him  with  alacrity  as  volunteers. 

It  was  in  the  end  of  March  1599  that  he  embarked;  and  land- 
ing after  a  dangerous  passage  at  Dublin,  his  first  act  was  the  ap- 
pointment of  his  dear  friend  the  earl  of  Southampton  to  the 
office  of  general  of  the  horse  ; — a  step  which  he  afterwards  found 
abundant  cause  to  repent. 

An  error,  of  which  the  consequences  were  much  more  per- 
nicious to  himself,  and  fatal  to  the  success  of  his  undertaking, 
was  his  abandoning  his  original  resolution  of  marching  imme- 
diately against  Tyrone,  and  spending  his  first  efforts  in  the  sup- 
pression of  a  minor  revolt  in  Munster : — an  attempt  in  which  he 
encountered  a  resistance  so  much  more  formidable  than  he  had  an  - 

*  Lord  Buckhurst  had  succeeded  to  the  office  of  lord  treasurer  on  the  death  of 
Burleigh, 
f  Nugw  Antiquse. 


THE  COURT  OF 


ticipated,  and  found  himself  so  ill  supported  by  his  troops,  whom 
the  nature  of  the  service  speedily  disheartened,  that  its  results 
were  by  no  means  so  brilliant  as  to  strike  terror  into  Tyrone  or 
the  other  insurgents.  What  was  still  worse,  almost  four  months 
were  occupied  in  this  service,  and  the  forces  returned  sick, 
weaned,  and  incredibly  reduced  in  number  by  various  accidents. 

Learning  that  the  queen  was  much  displeased  at  this  expedi- 
tion into  Munster,  Essex  addressed  a  letter  to  the  privy-council, 
in  which,  after  affirming  that  he  had  performed  his  part  to  the 
best  of  his  abilities  and  judgment,  he  thus  proceeded  :  "  But  as 
I  said,  and  ever  must  say,  I  provided  for  this  service  a  breast- 
plate, and  not  a  cuirass ;  that  is,  I  am  armed  on  the  breast,  but 
not  on  the  back.  I  armed  myself  with  confidence  that  rebels  in 
so  unjust  a  quarrel  could  not  fight  so  well  as  we  could  in  a  good. 
Howbeit  if  the  rebels  shall  but  once  come  to  know  that  I  am 
wounded  on  the  back,  not  slightly,  but  to  the  heart,  as  I  fear  me 
they  have  too  true  and  too  apparent  advertisement  of  this  kind; 
then  what  will  be  their  pride  and  the  state's  hazard,  your  lord- 
ships in  your  wisdoms  may  easily  discern." 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  the  warmth  of  his  friendship  for  South- 
ampton breaks  out  in  the  following  eloquent  and  forcible  appeal. 
— "  But  to  leave  this,  and  come  to  that  which  I  never  looked  I 
should  have  come  to,  I  mean  your  lordships'  letter  touching  the 
displacing  of  the  earl  of  Southampton  ;  your  lordships  say,  that 
her  majesty  thinketh  it  strange,  and  taketh  it  offensively,  that  I 
should  appoint  him  general  of  the  horse,  seeing  not  only  her  ma- 
jesty denied  it  when  I  moved  it,  but  gave  an  express  prohibition 
to  any  such  choice.  Surely,  my  lord,  it  shall  be  far  from  me  to 
contest  with  your  lordships,  much  less  with  her  majesty.  How- 
beit, God  and  my  own  soul  are  my  witnesses,  that  I  had  not  in 
this  nomination  any  disobedient  or  irreverent  thought;  that  I 
never  moved  her  majesty  for  the  placing  of  any  officer,  my  com- 
mission fully  enabling  me  to  make  free  choice  of  all  officers  and 
commanders  of  the  army.  I  remember,  that  her  majesty  in  her 
privy-chamber  at  Richmond,  I  only  being  with  her,  showed  a 
dislike  of  his  having  any  office  ;  but  my  answer  was,  that  if  her 
majesty  would  revoke  my  commission,  I  would  cast  both  it  and 
myself  at  her  majesty's  feet.  But  if  it  pleased  her  majesty  that 
I  should  execute  it,  I  must  work  with  my  own  instruments.  And 
from  this  profession  and  protestation  I  never  varied  ;  whereas 
if  I  had  held  myself  barred  from  giving  my  lord  of  Southampton 
place  and  reputation  some  way  answerable  to  his  degree  and 
expense,  there  is  no  one,  I  think,  doth  imagine,  that  I  loved  him 
so  ill  as  to  have  brought  him  over.  Therefore  if  her  majesty 
punish  me  with  her  displeasure  for  this  choice,  poena  dolenda 
venit.  And  now,  my  lords,  were  now,  as  then  it  was,  that  I 
were  to  choose,  or  were  there  nothing  in  a  new  choice  but  my 
lord  of  Southampton's  disgrace  and  my  discomfort,  1  should 
easily  be  induced  to  displace  him,  and  to  part  with  him.  But 
when,  in  obeying  this  command,  1  must  discourage  all  my  friends, 
who  now,  seeing  the  days  of  my  suffering  draw  near,  follow  me 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


479 


afar  off,  and  arc  some  of  them  tempted  to  renounce  me  ;  when 
I  must  dismay  the  army,  which  already  looks  sadly,  as  pitying 
both  me  and  itself  in  this  comfortless  action  ;  when  I  must  en 
courage  the  rebels,  who  doubtless  will  think  it  time  to  hew  upon 
a  withering  tree,  whose  leaves  they  see  beaten  down,  and  the 
branches  in  part  cut  off;  when  I  must  disable  myself  for  ever  in 
the  course  of  this  service,  the  world  now  perceiving  that  I  want 
either  reason  to  judge  of  merit,  or  freedom  to  right  it,  disgraces 
being  there  heaped  where,  in  my  opinion,  rewards  are  due  ;  give 
just  grief  leave  once  to  complain.  O  !  miserable  employment, 
and  more  miserable  destiny  of  mine,  that  makes  it  impossible 
for  me  to  please  and  serve  her  majesty  at  once  !  Was  it  treason 
in  my  lord  of  Southampton  to  marry  my  poor  kinswoman,  that 
neither  long  imprisonment,  nor  any  punishment  besides  that  hath 
been  usual  in  like  cases,  can  satisfy  and  appease  ?  Or  will  no 
kind  of  punishment  be  fit  for  him,  but  that  which  punisheth,  not 
him,  but  ine,  this  army,  and  this  poor  country  of  Ireland  ?  Shall 
I  keep  the  country  when  the  army  breaks  ?  Or  shall  the  army 
stand  when  all  the  volunteers  leave  it  ?  Or  will  any  voluntaries 
stay  when  those  that  have  will  and  cause  to  follow  are  thus 
handled  r  No,  my  lords,  they  already  ask  passports,  and  that 
daily,"  &c. 

In  spite  of  all  this  earnestness,  in  spite  of  the  remaining  af- 
fection of  the  queen  for  her  favourite,  she  still  persisted  in  re- 
quiring that  he  should  displace  his  friend,  and  even  chid  him 
severely  for  having  waited  the  result  of  his  further  representa- 
tions and  entreaties,  after  once  learning  her  pleasure  on  the 
point.  Success  in  the  main  object  of  his  expedition  might  still 
have  procured  him  a  triumph  over  his  court  enemies  and  a  sweet 
reconciliation  with  his  offended  sovereign,  but  fortune  had  no 
such  favour  in  store  for  Essex.  The  necessity  of  quelling  some 
rebels  in  Leinster  again  impeded  his  inarch  into  Ulster ;  for 
which  expedition  he  was  obliged  to  solicit  a  further  supply  from 
England  of  two  thousand  foot,  which  was  immediately  forwarded 
to  him,  as  if  with  the  design  of  leaving  him  without  excuse  should 
he  fail  to  reduce  Tyrone.  But  by  this  time  the  season  was  so 
far  advanced,  and  the  army  so  sickly,  that  both  the  earl  and  the 
Irish  council  were  of  opinion  that  nothing  effectual  could  be  done ; 
and  at  the  first  notice  of  his  intended  march  great  part  of  his 
forces  deserted.  He  nevertheless  proceeded,  and  in  a  few  days 
during  which  a  little  skirmishing  took  place,  came  in  sight  of 
the  rebels'  main  army,  considerably  more  numerous  than  his 
own  ;  Tyrone  however  would  not  venture  to  give  him  battle, 
but  sent  to  request  a  parley.  This,  after  some  delay,  the  lord 
deputy  granted  ;  and  a  conference  was  held  between  them,  Essex 
standing  on  the  bank  of  a  stream  which  separated  the  two  hosts, 
while  the  rebel  sat  on  his  horse  in  the  middle  of  the  water.  A. 
truce  was  concluded,  to  be  renewed  from  six  weeks  to  six  weeks, 
till  terms  of  peace  should  be  agreed  on  ;  those  proposed  by 
Tyrone  containing  several  arrogant  and  unreasonable  articles. 
At  a  second  meeting  with  the  Irish  chieC  Essex  was  attended 


480 


THE  COURT  OF 


by  some  of  his  principal  officers ;  but  it  was  afterwards  proved 
that  previously  to  the  first  conference,  he  had  opened  a  very  un- 
warrantable correspondence  with  this  enemy  of  his  queen  and 
country,  who  took  upon  himself  to  promise  that  if  Essex  would 
come  into  his  measures  he  would  make  him  the  greatest  man  in 
England.  During  the  whole  of  this  time,  sharp  letters  were 
passing  between  Elizabeth  and  her  privy-council  and  the  earl; 
and  it  is  hard  to  say  on  which  side  the  heaviest  list  of  griev- 
ances was  produced.  The  queen  remonstrated  against  his  con- 
temptuous disobedience  of  her  orders,  and  the  waste  in  frivolous 
enterprises  of  the  vast  supplies  of  men  and  money  which  she  had 
intrusted  to  her  deputy  for  a  specific  and  momentous  object; — 
the  earl,  in  addition  to  his  usual  murmurings  against  the  sinister 
suggestions  of  his  enemies,  amongst  whom  he  singled  out  by 
name  Raleigh  and  lord  Cobham,  found  further  grounds  of  com- 
plaint and  alarm  in  the  circumstance  of  her  majesty's  having 
caused  some  troops  to  be  called  out  under  the  lord  admiral,  on 
pretext  of  fears  from  the  Spaniard,  but  really  with  a  view  of  pro- 
tecting her  against  certain  designs  imputed  to  himself :  and  in 
her  having  granted  to  secretary  Cecil  during  his  absence  the 
office  of  master  of  the  wards  for  which  he  was  himself  a  suitor. 

Apprehensive,  lest  by  his  longer  delay  her  affections  should  be 
irrecoverably  alienated  from  him  by  the  discovery  of  his  traito- 
rous correspondence  with  Tyrone,  he  rashly  resolved  to  risk  yet 
another  act  of  disobedience  : — that  of  deserting  without  license, 
and  under  its  present  accumulated  circumstances  of  danger,  his 
important  charge,  and  hastening  to  throw  himself  at  the  feet  of 
an  exasperated,  but  he  flattered  himself,  not  inexorable  mistress. 
At  one  time  he  had  even  entertained  the  desperate  and  criminal 
design  of  carrying  over  with  him  a  large  part  of  his  army,  for  the 
purpose  of  intimidating  his  adversaries  ;  but  being  diverted  from 
this  scheme  by  the  earl  of  Southampton  and  sir  Christopher 
Blount  his  step-father,  he  embarked  with  the  attendance  only  of 
most  of  his  household  and  a  number  of  his  favourite  officers,  and 
arrived  at  the  court,  which  was  then  at  Nonsuch,  on  Michaelmas 
eve  in  the  morning. 

On  alighting  at  the  gate,  covered  with  mire  and  stained  with 
travel  as  he  was,  he  hastened  up  stairs,  passed  through  the  pre- 
sence and  the  privy  chambers,  and  never  stopped  till  he  reached 
the  queen's  bedchamber,  where  he  found  her  newly  risen  with 
her  hair  about  her  face.  He  kneeled  and  kissed  her  hands,  and 
she,  in  the  agreeable  surprise  of  beholding  at  her  feet  one  whom 
she  still  loved,  received  him  with  so  kind  an  aspect,  and  listened 
with  such  favour  to  his  excuses,  that  on  leaving  her,  after  a  pri- 
vate conference  of  some  duration,  he  appeared  in  high  spirits, 
and  thanked  God,  that  though  he  had  suffered  many  storms 
abroad,  he  found  a  sweet  calm  at  home.  He  waited  on  her  again 
as  soon  as  he  had  changed  his  dress  ;  and  after  a  second  long  and 
gracious  conference,  was  freely  visited  by  all  the  lords,  ladies,  * 
and  gentlemen  at  court,  excepting  the  secretary  and  his  party, 
who  appeared  somewhat  shy  of  him.    But  all  these  fair  appear- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


481 


r\nees  quickly  vanished.    On  revisiting  the  queen  in  the  evening, 
he  found  her  much  changed  towards  him;  she  began  to  call  hint 
to  account  for  his  unauthorised  return  and  the  hazard  to  which 
lie  had  committed  all  things  in  Ireland  ;  and  four  privy-coun- 
cillors were  appointed  by  her  to  examine  him  that  night  and 
hear  his  answers:  but  by  them  nothing  was  concluded,  and  the 
matter  was  referred  to  a  full  council  summoned  for  the  following 
day,  the  earl  being  in  the  meantime  commanded  to  keep  his 
chamber.    Notwithstanding  the  natural  impetuosity  of  his  tem- 
per, Essex  now  armed  himself  with  patience  and  moderation, 
and  answered  with  great  gravity  and  discretion  to  the  charges 
brought  against  him,  which  resolved  themselves  into  the  follow- 
ing articles.    "  His  contemptuous  disobedience  of  her  majesty's 
letters  and  will  in  returning:  his  presumptuous  letters  written 
from  time  to  time :  his  proceedings  in  Ireland  contrary  to  the 
points  resolved  upon  in  England,  ere.  he  went:  his  rash  manner 
of  coming  away  from  Ireland:  his  overbold  going  the  day  before 
to  her  majesty's  presence  to  her  bedchamber  :  and  his  making 
of  so  many  idle  knights.''*    The  council,  after  hearing  his  de- 
fence, remained  awhile  in  consultation,  and  then  made  their  re- 
port to  her  majesty,  who  said  she  should  take  time  to  consider 
of  his  answers  :  meanwhile  the  proceedings  were  kept  very  pri- 
vate, and  the  earl  continued  a  prisoner  in  his  own  apartment. 
An  open  division  now  took  place  between  the  two  great  factions 
which  had  long  divided  the  court  in  secret.'   The  earls  of 
Shrewsbury  and  Nottingham,  lords  Thomas  Howard,  Cobham, 
and  Grey,  sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  sir  George  Carew  attended 
on  the  secretary ;  while  Essex  was  followed  by  the  earls  of 
Worcester  and  Rutland,  lords  Montjoy,  Rich,  Lumley,  and 
Henry  Howard  ;  the  last  of  whom  however  was  already  sus- 
pected to  be  the  traitor  which  he  afterwards  proved  to  the 
patron  whom  he  professed  to  love,  to  honour,  and  almost  to 
worship.    Sir  William  Knolles  also  joined  the  party  of  his  ne- 
phew, with  many  other  knights  and  gentlemen,  and  lord  Effing- 
ham, though  son  to  the  earl  of  Nottingham,  was  often  with  him, 
and  "protested  all  service"  to  him.    "It  is  a  world  to  be  here," 
adds  Whyte,  "  and  see  the  humours  of  the  place."    On  October 
the  second,  Essex  was  "commanded  from  court,"  and  committed 
to  the  lord  keeper  with  whom  he  remained  at  York  house.  At 
his  departure  from  court  few  or  none  of  his  friends  accompanied 
him. 

"  His  lordship's  sudden  return  out  of  Ireland,"  says  Whyte, 
"brings  all  sorts  of  knights,  captains,  officers,  and  soldiers,  away 
from  thence,  that  this  town  is  full  of  them,  to  the  great  discon- 
tentment of  her  majesty,  that  they  are  suffered  to  leave  their 
charge.  But  the  most  part  of  the  gallants  have  quitted  their 
commands,  places,  and  companies,  not  willing  to  stay  there  after 
him :  so  that  the  disorder  seems  to  be  greater  there  than  stands 
with  the  safety  of  that  service."    Harrington,  the  wit  and  poet. 


■  Rowland  Whyte  in  Sidnev  Papers. 
3  P 


482 


THE  COURT  OF 


had  the  misfortune  to  be  one  of  the  threescore  "  idle  knights,** 
dubbed  by  the  lord  deputy  during  his  short  and  inglorious  reign, 
and  likewise  one  of  the  officers  whom  he  selected  to  accompany 
him  in  his  return  ;  and  we  may  learn  from  two  of  his  own  letters, 
written  several  years  subsequently,  after  what  manner  he  was 
welcomed  on  his  arrival  by  his  royal  godmother. 

"  Sir  John  Harrington  to  Dr.  Still,  the  bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells. 

1603. 

"  My  worthy  lord, 

"  1  have  lived  to  see  that  d  e  rebel  Tyrone  brought  to 

England,  courteously  favoured,  honoured,  and  well-liked.  0 !  my 
lord,  what  is  there  which  doth  not  prove  the  inconstancy  of 
worldly  matters !  How  did  I  labour  after  that  knave's  destruc- 
tion !  I  was  called  from  my  home  by  her  majesty's  command, 
adventured  perils  by  sea  and  land ;  endured  toil,  was  near 
starving,  ate  horse-flesh  at  Munster;  and  all  to  quell  that  man, 
avIio  now  smileth  in  peace  at  those  that  did  hazard  their  lives  to 
destroy  him.  Essex  took  me  to  Ireland,  I  had  scant  time  to  put 
on  my  boots ;  I  followed  with  good  will,  and  did  return  with  the 
lord-lieutenant  to  meet  ill-will;  I  did  bear  the  frowns  of  her  that 
sent  me ;  and  were  it  not  for  her  good  liking,  rather  than  my 
good  deservings,  I  had  been  sore  discountenanced  indeed.  1 
.obeyed  in  going  with  the  earl  to  Ireland,  and  I  obeyed  in  com- 
ing with  him  to  England.  But  what  did  I  encounter  thereon  ? 
Not  his  wrath,  but  my  gracious  sovereign's  ill  humour.  What 
did  I  advantage  ?  Why  truly  a  knighthood  ;  which  had  been 
better  bestowed  by  her  that  sent  me,  and  better  spared  by  him 
that  gave  it.  I  shall  never  put  out  of  memory  her  majesty's- 
displeasure ;  I  entered  her  chamber,  but  she  frowned  and  said. 
■  What,  did  the  fool  bring  you  too  ?  Go  back  to  your  business.' 
In  sooth  these  words  did  sore  hurt  him  that  never  heard  such 
before  ;  but  Heaven  gave  me  more  comfort  in  a  day  or  two  after. 
Her  majesty  did  please  to  ask  me  concerning  our  northern  jour- 
neys, and  I  did  so  well  quit  me  of  the  account,  that  she  favoured 
me  with  such  discourse  that  the  earl  himself  had  been  well  glad 
of.  And  now  doth  Tyrone  dare  us  old  commanders  with  his 
presence  and  protection,"  &c* 

"  Sir  John  Harrington  to  Mr.  Robert  Markham,  1 606. 

"  My  good  cousin, 
"Herewith  you  will  have  my  journal,  with  our  history  during 
our  march  against  the  Irish  rebels.  I  did  not  intend  any  eyes 
should  have  seen  this  discourse  but  my  own  children's  ;  yet  alas  ! 
ir  happened  otherwise  ;  for  the  queen  did  so  ask,  and  I  may  say, 
demand  my  account,  that  I  could  not  withhold  showing  it ;  and 
I,  even  now,  almost  tremble  to  rehearse  her  highness'  displeasure 


*  Nngse.. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


488 


herekt.  She  swore  by  God's  son,  we  were  all  idle  knaves,  and 
the  lord  deputy  worse,  for  wasting  our  time  and  her  commands 
in  such-wise  as  my  journal  doth  write  of. 

I  could  have  told  her  highness  of  such  difficulties,  straits,  and 
annoyance,  as  did  not  appear  therein  to  her  eyes,  nor,  1  found, 
could  be  brought  to  her  ear ;  for  her  choler  did  outrun  all  reason, 
though  I  did  meet  it  at  a  second  hand.  For  what  show  she  gave 
at  first  to  my  lord  deputy  at  his  return,  was  far  more  grievous, 
as  will  appear  in  good  time. 

"  I  marvel  to.  think  what  strange  humours  do  conspire  to  patch 
up  the  natures  of  some  minds.  The  elements  do  seem  to  strive 
which  shall  conquer  and  rise  above  the  other.  In  good  sooth 
our  late  queen  did  infold  them  all  together.  1  bless  her  memory 
for  all  her  goodness  to  me  and  my  family :  and  now  will  I  show 
you  what  strange  temperament  she  did  sometimes  put  forth.  Her 
mind  was  oftimes  like  the  gentle  air  that  cometh  from  the  west- 
erly point  in  a  summer's  morn  ;  'twas  sweet  and  refreshing  to 
all  around  her.  Her  speech  did  win  all  affections,  and  her  sub- 
jects did  try  to  shew  all  love  to  her  commands  ;  for  she  would 
say,  her  state  did  require  her  to  command  what  she  knew  her 
people  would  willingly  do  from  their  own  love  to  her.  Herein 
did  she  show  her  wisdom  fully ;  for  who  did  choose  to  lose  her 
confidence ;  or  who  would  withhold  a  show  of  love  and  obedi- 
ence, when  their  sovereign  said  it  was  their  own  choice,  and  not 
her  compulsion?  Surely  she  did  play  well  her  tables  to  gain 
obedience  thus  without  constraint;  again  could  she  put  forth 
such  alterations,  when  obedience  was  lacking,  as  left  no  doubt  - 
ings  whose  daughter  she  was.  I  say  this  was  plain  on  the  lord 
deputy's  coming  home,  when  I  did  come  into  her  presence.  She 
chafed  much,  walked  fastly  to  and  fro,  looked  with  discomposure 
in  her  visage  ;  and  I  remember,  she  catched  my  girdle  when  I 
kneeled  to  her,  and  swore,  *  By  God's  son  I  am  no  queen,  that 
man  is  above  me  ; — who  gave  him  command  to  come  here  so 
soon  ?  I  did  send  him  on  other  business.'  It  was  long  before 
more  gracious  discourse  did  fall  to  my  hearing ;  but  I  was  then 
put  out  of  my  trouble,  and  bid  go  home.  I  did  not  stay  to  be 
bidden  twice ;  if  all  the  Irish  rebels  had  been  at  my  heels,  I 
should  not  have  made  better  speed,  for  I  did  now  flee  from  one 
whom  I  both  loved  and  feared  too."* 

The  fate  of  Essex  remained  long  in  suspense;  while  several 
little  circumstances  seemed  to  indicate  the  strength  of  her  ma- 
jesty's resentment  against  him ;  especially  her  denying,  to  the 
personal  request  of  lady  Walsingham,  permission  for  the  earl  to 
write  to  his  countess,  her  daughter,  who  was  in  childbed  and 
exceedingly  troubled  that  she  neither  saw  nor  heard  from  her 
husband  ;  and  afterwards  her  refusing  to  allow  his  family  physi- 
cian access  to  him,  though  he  was  now  so  ill  as  to  be  attended 
by  several  other  physicians,  with  whom  however  Dr.  Brown  was 
permitted  to  consult.    At  the  same  time  it  was  given  out  that  if 


Nugce. 


484 


THE  COURT  OF 


he  would  beg  his  liberty  for  the  purpose  of  going  back  to  Ireland, 
it  would  be  granted  him  ; — but  he  appeared  resolute  never  to 
return  thither,  and  professed  a  determination  of  leading  hence- 
forth a  retired  life  in  the  country,  free  from  all  participation  in 
public  affairs. 

Pamphlets  were  written  on  his  case,  but  immediately  sup- 
pressed by  authority,  and  perhaps  at-the  request  of  the  earl  him- 
self, whose  behaviour  at  this  time  exhibited  nothing  but  duty 
and  submission.  His  sister  lady  Rich,  and  lady  Southampton, 
quitted  Essex  house  and  went  into  the  country,  because  the  re- 
sort of  company  to  them  had  given  offence.  He  himself  neither 
saw  nor  desired  to  see  any  one.  His  very  servants  were  afraid 
to  meet  in  any  place  to  make  merry  lest  it  might  be  ill  taken. 
"At  the  court,"  says  Whyte,  "lady  Scrope  is  only  noted  to 
stand  firm  to  him,  for  she  endures  much  at  her  majesty's  hands 
because  she  daily  does  all  kind  offices  of  love  to  the  queen  in  his 
behalf.  She  wears  all  black;  she  mourns  and  is  pensive,  and 
joys  in  nothing  but  in  a  solitary  being  alone.  And  'tis  thought 
she  says  much  that  few  would  venture  to  say  but  herself."  This 
generous  woman  was  daughter  to  the  first  lord  Hunsdon,  and 
nearly  related  both  to  the  queen  and  to  Essex.  She  was  sister 
to  the  countess  of  Nottingham,  who  is  believed  to  have  acted  so 
opposite  a  part. 

About  the  middle  of  October  strong  hopes  were  entertained 
of  the  earl's  enlargement ;  but  it  was  said  that  "  he  stood  to  have 
his  liberty  by  the  like  warrant  he  was  committed."  The  secre- 
tary was  pleased  to  express  to  him  the  satisfaction  that  he  felt 
in  seeing  her  majesty  so  well  appeased  by  his  demeanour,  and 
his  own  wish  to  promote  his  good  and  contentment.  The  rea- 
sons which  he  had  assigned  for  his  conduct  in  Ireland  appeared 
to  have  satisfied  the  privy -council  and  mollified  the  queen.  But 
her  majesty  characteristically  declared,  that  she  would  not  bear 
the  blame  of  his  imprisonment ;  and  before  she  and  her  council 
could  settle  amongst  them  on  whom  it  should  be  made  to  rest, 
a  new  cause  of  exasperation  arose.  Tyrone,  in  a  letter  to  Essex 
which  was  intercepted,  declared  that  he  found  it  impossible  to 
prevail  on  his  confederates  to  observe  the  conditions  of  truce 
agreed  upon  between  them;  and  the  queen  relapsing  into  anger, 
triumphantly  asked  if  there  did  not  now  appear  good  cause  for 
the  earls  committal?  She  immediately  made  known  to  lord 
Montjoy  her  wish  that  he  should  undertake  the  government  of 
Ireland  ;  but  the  friendship  of  this  nobleman  to  Essex,  joined 
with  a  hope  that  the  queen  might  be  induced  to  liberate  him  by 
a  necessity  of  again  employing  his  talents  in  that  country,  in- 
duced Montjoy  to  excuse  himself.  The  council  unanimously 
recommended  to  her  majesty  the  enlargement  of  the  prisoner; 
but  she  angrily  replied,  that  such  contempts  as  he  had  been 
guilty  of  ought  to  be  openly  punished.  They  answered,  that  by 
her  sovereign  power  and  the  rigour  of  law,  such  punishment  might 
indeed  be  inflicted,  but  that  it  would  be  inconsistent  with  her 
clemency  and  her  honour ;  she  however  caused  heads  of  accusa- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


485 


tion  to  bo  drawn  up  against  him.  All  this  time  Essex  continued 
very  sick  ;  and  his  high  spirit  condescended  to  supplications  like 
the  follow  ins;. 

"  When  the  creature  entereth  into  account  with  the  Creator, 
it  can  never  number  in  how  many  things  it  needs  mercy,  or  in 
how  many  it  receives  it.  But  he  that  is  best  stored,  must  still 
say,  da  nobis  hodie;  and  he  that  hath  showed  most  thankfulness., 
must  ask  again,  Quid  retribuamtis  ?  And  I  can  no  sooner  finish 
this  my  first  audit,  most  dear  and  most  admired  sovereign,  but  I 
come  to  consider  how  large  a  measure  of  his  grace,  and  how 
great  a  resemblance  of  his  power,  God  hath  given  you  upon  earth ; 
and  how  many  ways  he  giveth  occasion  to  you  to  exercise  these 
divine  offices  upon  us,  that  are  your  vassals.  This  confession 
best  fitteth  me  of  all  men;  and  this  confession  is  most  joyfully 
and  most  humbly  now  made  by  me  of  all  times.  I  acknowledge 
upon  the  knees  of  my  heart  you  majesty's  infinite  goodness  in 
granting  my  humble  petition.  God,  who  seeth  all,  is  witness, 
how  faithfully  I  do  vow  to  dedicate  the  rest  of  my  life,  next  after 
my  highest  duty,  in  obedience  faith  and  zeal  to  your  majesty, 
without  admitting  any  other  worldly  care  ;  and  whatsoever  your 
majesty  resolveth  to  do  with  me,  I  shall  live  and  die 

"  Your  majesty's  humblest  vassal, 

"  ESSEX/' 

The  earl  abased  himself  in  vain  ;  those  courtiers  who  had 
formerly  witnessed  her  majesty's  tenderness  and  indulgence 
towards  him,  now  wondered  at  the  violence  of  her  resentment ; 
and  somewhat  of  mystery  still  involves  the  motives  of  her  con- 
duct. At  one  time  she  deferred  his  liberation  "because  she 
heard  that  some  of  his  friends  and  followers  should  say  he  was 
wrongfully  imprisoned :"  and  the  French  ambassador  who  spoke 
for  him,  found  her  very  short  and  bitter  on  that  point.  Soon 
after,  however,  on  hearing  that  he  continued  very  sick  and  was 
making  his  will,  she  was  surprised  into  some  signs  of  pity,  and 
gave  orders  that  a  few  of  his  friends  should  be  admitted  to  visit 
him,  and  that  he  should  be  allowed  the  liberty  of  the  garden. 
Alarmed  at  these  relentings,  Raleigh,  to  whose  nature  the  basest 
court  arts  were  not  repugnant,  thought  proper  tQ  fall  sick  in  his 
turn,  and  was  healed  in  like  manner  by  a  gracious  message  from 
the  queen.  The  countess  of  Essex  was  indefatigable  in  her  ap- 
plications to  persons  in  power,  but  with  little  avail ;  all  that  was 
gained  for  the  dejected  prisoner  was  effected  by  the  intercession 
of  some  of  the  queen's  favourite  ladies,  who  obtained  leave  for 
his  two  sisters  to  come  to  court  and  solicit  for  him.  Soon  after, 
the  storm  seemed  to  gather  strength  again  ; — a  warrant  was 
made  out  for  the  earl's  committal  to  the  Tower,  and  though  it 
was  not  carried  into  force,  "  the  hopes  of  liberty  grew  cold." 
About  the  middle  of  November  lord  Montjoy  received  orders 
to  prepare  for  Ireland. 

The  appearance  of  the  first  part  of  a  history  in  Latin  of  the 
life  and  reign  of  Henry  IV.  by  sir  John  Hayward,  dedicated  to 


486 


THE  COURT  OF 


the  earl  of  Essex,  was  the  unfortunate  occasion  of  fresh  offence  te 
the  queen? the  subject,  as  containing  the  deposition  of  a  lawful 
prince,  was  in  itself  unpalatable ;  but  what  gave  the  work  in  her 
jealous  eyes  a  peculiar  and  sinister  meaning  was  an  expression 
addressed  to  the  earl  which  may  be  thus  rendered :  "  You  are 
great  both  in  present  judgment  and  future  expectation." 

Hayward  was  detained  a  considerable  time  in  prison  ;  and  the 
queen,  from  an  idle  suspicion  that  the  piece  was  in  fact  the  pro- 
duction of  some  more  dangerous  character,  declared  that  she 
would  have  him  racked  to  discover  the  secret.  "  Nay,  Madam," 
answered  Francis  Bacon,  "he  is  a  Doctor  jjnever  rack  his  per- 
son, but  rack  his  style.  Let  him  have  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  and 
help  of  books,  and  be  enjoined  to  continue  the  story  where  it 
breaketh  off;  and  I  will  undertake,  by  collating  the  styles,  to 
judge  whether  he  were  the  author  or  no."  And  thus  her  mind 
was  diverted  from  this  atrocious  purpose  ! 

Measures  had  now  been  carried  too  far  against  the  earl  to 
admit  of  his  speedy  restoration  to  favour,  whatever  might  be  the 
secret  sentiments  of  her  majesty  in  his  behalf ;  and  her  conduct 
respecting  him  preserved  a  vacillating  and  undecided  character 
which  marks  the  miserable  perplexity  of  her  mind,  no  longer 
enlightened  by  the  clear  and  dispassionate  judgment  of  Bur- 
leigh. 

On  one  occasion  she  spoke  of  the  earl  with  such  favour  as 
greatly  troubled  the  opposite  party.  Soon  after,  on  his  sending 
to  her  his  patents  of  master  of  the  horse  and  master  of  the  ord- 
nance, she  immediately  returned  them  to  him ;  and  at  the  same 
time  his  lady  had  leave  to  visit  him.  Two  days  after,  the  queen 
ordered  a  consultation  of  eight  physicians  upon  his  case,  who 
gave  little  hope  of  his  life,  but  earnestly  recommended  that  his 
mind  should  be  quieted ;  on  which,  unable  longer  to  conceal  her 
feelings,  she  sent  Dr.  James  to  him  with  some  broth  and  the 
message,  that  he  should  comfort  himself,  and  that  if  she  might 
consistently  with  her  honour  she  would  visit  him ;  and  it  was 
noted  that  she  had  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke.  But  it  was 
soon  after  hinted  to  her,  that  though  divines  watched  by  the  bed 
of  the  earl  and  publicly  prayed  for  him  in  their  pulpits,  some  of 
them  "with  speeches  tending  to  sedition,"  his  life  was  in  no  real 
danger.  On  this,  she  refused  his  sisters,  his  son,  and  his  mother- 
in-law  permission  to  visit  him,  and  ceased  to  make  inquiries 
after  his  health,  which  was  in  no  long  time  restored.  A  rich 
new  year's  gift,  which  was  sent  "  as  it  were  in  a  cloud,  no  man 
knew  how,"  but  thought  to  come  from  the  earl,  was  left  for  some 
time  in  the  hands  of  sir  William  Knolles,  as  neither  accepted 
nor  refused,  but  finally  rejected  with  disdain  on  some  new  ac- 
cession of  anger.  Yet  the  letters  of  lady  Rich  in  his  behalf 
were  read,  and  her  many  presents  received,  as  well  as  one  from 
the  countess  of  Leicester. 

Lady  Essex  was  now  restrained  for  a  time  from  making  her  ' 
daily  visits  to  her  husband,  and  the  queen  declared  her  intention 
of  bringing  him  before  the  Star-chamber ;  but  on  his  writing  a 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


487 


very  submissive  letter,  which  was  delivered  by  the  secretary, 
the  design  was  dropped ;  and  the  secretary,  who  had  been  ear- 
nest in  his  intercession  with  her  majesty  to  spare  this  infliction, 
gained  in  c  onsequence  much  credit  with  the  public.  About  the 
middle  of  March  the  earl  was  suffered  to  remove,  under  the  su- 
perintendance  of  a  keeper  to  his  own  house;  for  which  lie  re 
turned  thanks  to  her  majesty  in  very  grateful  terms,  saying  thai 
"  this  further  degree  of  her  goodness  sounded  in  his  ears  as  if 
she  had  said,  *  Die  not,  Essex ;  for  though  I  punish  thine  offence, 
and  humble  thee  for  thy  good,  yet  will  I  one  day  be  served 
again  by  thee.1 "  "  And  my  prostrate  soul,"  he  adds,  "  makes 
this  answer,  'I  hope  for  that  blessed  day.'"  Two  months  af- 
terwards, however,  perceiving  no  immediate  prospect  of  his  re- 
turn to  favour  or  to  liberty,  he  addressed  her  in  a  more  expos- 
tulating style,  tkus : 

"Before  all  letters  written  with  this  hand  be  banished,  or  he 
that  sends  this  enjoin  himself  eternal  silence,  be  pleased,  I 
humbly  beseech  your  majesty,  to  read  over  these  few  lines.  At 
sundry  times  and  by  several  messengers,  I  received  these  words 
as  your  majesty's  own  ;  that  you  meant  to  correct  but  not  to  ruin. 
Since  which  time,  when  I  languished  in  four  months'  sickness; 
forfeited  almost  all  that  I  was  able  to  engage ;  felt  the  very  pangs 
of  death  upon  me  ;  and  saw  that  poor  reputation,  whatsoever  it 
was,  that  I  had  hitherto  enjo}red,  not  suffered  to  die  with  me,  but 
buried,  and  I  alive ;  I  yet  kissed  your  majesty's  fair  correcting 
hand,  and  was  confident  in  your  royal  words.  For  I  said  unto 
myself,  Between  my  ruin  and  my  sovereign's  favour  there  is  no 
mean  ;  and  if  she  bestow  favour  again,  she  gives  with  it  all 
things  that  in  this  world  I  either  need  or  desire.  But  now,  the 
length  of  troubles,  and  the  continuance,  or  rather  the  increase, 
of  your  majesty's  indignation  hath  made  all  men  so  afraid  of 
me,  as  mine  own  state  is  not  only  ruined,  but  my  kind  friends 
and  faithful  servants  are  like  to  die  in  prison  because  I  cannot 
help  myself  with  mine  own.  Now  I  do  not  only  feel  the  in- 
tolerable weight  of  your  majesty's  indignation,  and  am  subject 
to  their  wicked  information  that  first  envied  me  for  my  happiness 
in  your  favour  and  now  hate  me  out  of  custom  ;  but,  as  if  I  were 
thrown  into  a  corner  like  a  dead  carcase,  I  am  gnawed  on  and 
torn  by  the  vilest  and  basest  creatures  upon  earth.  The  tavern - 
haunter  speaks  of  me  what  he  lists.  Already  they  print  me  and 
make  me  speak  to  the  world,  and  shortly  they  will  play  me  in 
what  forms  they  list  upon  the  stage.  The  least  of  these  is  a 
thousand  times  worse  than  death.  But  this  is  not  the  worst  of 
my  destiny ;  for  your  majesty,  that  hath  mercy  for  all  the  world 
but  me,  that  hath  protected  from  scorn  and  infamy  all,  to  whom 
you  once  vowed  favour  but  Essex,  and  never  repented  you  of 
any  gracious  assurance  you  had  given  till  now;  your  majesty,  I 
say,  hath  now,  in  this  eighth  month  of  my  close  imprisonment 
(as  if  you  thought  my  infirmities,  beggary,  and  infamy,  too  little 
punishment  for  me,)  rejected  my  letters,  refused  to  hear  of  me, 
which  to  traitors  you  never  did.    What  therefore  remaineth  for 


488 


THE  COURT  OF 


me  ?  Only  this,  to  beseech  your  majesty  on  the  knees  of  my 
heart,  to  conclude  my  punishment,  my  misery,  and  my  life  to- 
gether ;  that  I  may  go  to  my  Saviour,  who  hath  paid  himself  a 
ransom  for  me,  and  whom,  methinks,  I  still  hear  calling  me  out 
of  this  unkind  world,  in  which  I  have  lived  too  long,  and  once 
thought  myself  too  happy. 

"  From  your  majesty's  humble  servant, 

"Essex." 

At  length  the  queen  prepared  to  make  an  end  of  this  lingering 
business  ;  the  earl's  entreaties  that  it  might  not  be  made  a  Star- 
chamber  matter  were  listened  to,  and  eighteen  commissioners 
were  selected  out  of  the  privy-council,  to  discuss  his  conduct,  hear 
his  accusation  and  defence,  and  finally  pronounce  upon  him  such 
a  censure,  for  it  was  not  to  be  called  a  sentence,  as  they  should 
see  fit.  The  crown  lawyers, — amongst  whom  Francis  Bacon 
chose  to  take  his  place,  though  the  queen  had  offered  to  excuse 
his  attendance  on  account  of  the  ties  of  gratitude  which  ought 
to  have  attached  him  to  Essex, — spoke  one  after  another  in  ag- 
gravation of  his  offence ;  and  some  of  them,  as  the  attorney- 
general  (Coke,)  with  great  virulence  of  language.  Next  came 
the  prisoner's  defence,  which  he  pronounced  kneeling ; — an 
attitude  in  which  he  was  suffered  to  remain  during  a  great  part 
of  the  proceedings.  He  began  with  a  humble  avowal  of  his  er- 
rors, and  many  expressions  of  penitence  and  humility  towards 
her  majesty ;  a  temperate  apology  for  particular  parts  of  his  con- 
duct followed  ;  but  as  he  was  proceeding  to  reflect  in  some 
points  on  the  conduct  of  the  Irish  council,  and  to  refute  the 
exaggerated  charges  of  his  enemies,  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
lord  keeper,  who  reminded  him  that  this  was  not  a  course  likely 
to  do  him  good.  The  earl  explained  that  he  had  no  wish  but  to 
clear  himself  of  disloyalty ;  it  was  answered,  that  with  this  he 
never  had  been  charged.  The  pathetic  eloquence  of  the  noble 
prisoner  moved  many  of  the  council  to  tears,  and  was  not  with- 
out its  effect  on  his  enemies  themselves.  The  secretary,  who  was 
the  first  to  rise  in  reply,  even  in  refuting  a  part  of  his  excuses, 
did  him  justice  in  other  points,  and  treated  him  on  the  whole 
with  great  courtesy.  Finally,  it  was  the  unanimous  censure  of 
the  council,  that  the  earl  should  abstain  from  exercising  the 
functions  of  privy-councillor,  earl  marshal,  or  master  of  the  ord- 
nance ;  that  he  should  return  to  his  own  house,  and  there  remain 
a  prisoner  as  before,  till  it  should  please  her  majesty  to  remit 
both  this  and  all  the  other  parts  of  the  sentence. 

By  this  solemn  hearing,  the  mind  of  the  queen  was  much  tran- 
quillised;  because  her  grave  councillors  and  learned  judges  in 
their  speeches,  "amplifying  her  majesty's  clemency  and  the 
earl's  offences,  according  to  the  manner  in  the  Star-chamber," 
had  held  him  worthy  of  much  more  punishment  than  he  had  yet 
received.  A  few  days  after  her  majesty  repaired  to  lady  Rus- 
sel's  house  in  Blackfriars  to  grace  the  nuptials  of  her  daughter, 
a  maid  of  honour,  with  lord  Herbert,  son  of  the  earl  of  Wor- 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


439 


tester: — on  which  occasion  it  may  be  mentioned,  that  she  was 
conveyed  from  the  water-side  in  a  lectica,  or  half-litter,  borne 
by  six  knights.  After  dining  with  the  wedding  company,  she 
passed  to  the  neighbouring  house  of  lord  Cobham  to  sup.  Here 
she  was  entertained  with  a  mask  of  eight  ladies,  who,  after  per- 
forming their  appointed  part,  chose  out  eight  ladies  more  to 
dance  the  measure,  when  Mrs.  Fitton,  the  principal  masker,  came 
and  "  wooed"  the  queen  also  to  dance.  Her  majesty  inquired 
who  she  was  ?  "  Affection,"  she  replied.  "  Affection^  said  the 
queen,  "  is  false     yet  she  rose  and  danced. 

Elizabeth  was  now  possessed  with  a  strange  fancy  of  unmaking 
the  knights  made  by  Essex  ;  being  flattered  in  this  folly  by 
Bacon,  who  assured  her,  certainly  in  contradiction  to  all  the  laws 


after  a  prohibition  laid  upon  him  by  her  majesty.  She  was  re- 
solved to  command  at  least  that  no  ancient  gentleman  should 
give  place  to  these  new  knights  ;  and  she  had  actually  signed 
the  warrant  for  a  proclamation  to  this  effect,  when  the  timely 
interference  of  the  secretary  saved  her  from  thus  exposing  herself. 

Late  in  August  1600,  the  earl  was  acquainted  in  form  by  the 
privy-council  that  his  liberty  was  restored,  but  that  he  was  still 
prohibited  from  appearing  at  court.  He  answered,  that  it  was 
his  design  to  lead  a  retired  life  at  his  uncle's  in  Oxfordshire, 
yet  he  begged  their  intercession  that  he  might  be  admitted  to 
kiss  the  queen's  hand  before  his  departure.  But  this  was  still 
too  great  a  favour  to  be  accorded,  and  he  was  informed,  that 
though  free  from  restraint,  he  was  still  to  regard  himself  as  un- 
der indignation ;  a  distinction  which  served  to  deter  all  but  his 
nearest  relations  from  resorting  to  him. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year,  Vereiken,  an  ambassador  from 
Flanders,  was  very  honourably  received  by  the  queen,  whose 
counsels  had  assumed  a  more  pacific  aspect  since  the  disgrace  of 
Essex. 

Whyte  informs  us,  with  his  usual  minuteness,  that  the  am- 
bassador was  lodged  with  alderman  Baning  in  Dowgate ;  and 
that  he  was  fetched  to  court  in  great  state,  the  whole liousehold 
being  drawn  up  in  the  hall ;  the  great  ladies  and  fair  maids  ap- 
pearing "  excellently  brave"  in  the  rooms  through  which  he 
passed ;  and  the  queen,  very  richly  dressed  and  surrounded  by 
her  council,  extending  to  him  a  most  gracious  reception.  He 
solemnly  congratulated  himself  on  the  happiness  of  beholding 
her  majesty,  "  who  for  beauty  and  wisdom  did  excel  all  other 
princes  of  the  earth ;"  and  she,  in  requittal,  promised  to  con- 
sider of  his  proposals.  The  negotiation  proved  in  the  end  abor- 
tive ;  but  great  offence  was  taken  at  the  publication  in  this  junc- 
ture of  a  letter  by  the  earl  of  Essex  against  a  peace  with  Spain. 

Raleigh  was  at  this  time  leaving  London  in  discontent  because 
nothing  was  done  for  him ; — it  does  not  appear  what  was  now 
the  particular  object  of  his  solicitation  ;  but  a  writer  has  record- 
ed  it  as  an  instance  of  the  prudent  reserve  of  Elizabeth  in  the 


of  chivalry,  that  her  general 


3Q 


490 


THE  COURX  OF 


advancement  of  her  courtiers,  that  she  would  never  admit  th6 
eloquent  and  ambitious  Raleigh  to  a  seat  at  her  council-board.* 
In  the  midst  of  her  extreme  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  Ireland, 
—where  Tyrone  for  the  present  carried  all  things  at  his  will, 
boasting  himself  the  champion  of  the  Romish  cause,  and  pro- 
claiming his  expectation  of  Spanish  aid  ;  and  of  her  more  inti- 
mate and  home-felt  uneasiness  respecting  the  effect  of  her 
measures  of  chastisement  on  the  haughty  mind  of  Essex, — we 
find  Elizabeth  promoting  with  some  affectation  the  amusements 
of  her  court.  "  This  day,"  says  Whyte,  "  she  appoints  to  see 
a  Frenchman  do  feats  upon  a  cord  in  the  conduit  court.  To- 
morrow she  hath  commanded  the  bears,  the  bull  and  the  ape  to 
be  baited  in  the  tilt-yard ;  upon  Wednesday  she  will  have  solemn 
dancing." 

A  letter  from  sir  Robert  Sidney  to  sir  John  Harrington,  writ- 
ten some  time  in  this  year,  affords  some  not  uninteresting  traits 
of  her  behaviour,  mixed  with  other  matters  : 

"  Worthy  Knight  ; 
"  Your  present  to  the  queen  was  well  accepted  of ;  she  did 
much  commend  your  verse,  nor  did  she  less  praise  your  prose 
.  .  . .  The  queen  hath  tasted  your  dainties,  and  saith  you  have 
marvellous  skill  in  the  cooking  of  good  fruits.  If  I  can  serve 
you  in  your  northern  suit,  you  may  command  me  ...  .  Our  law- 


strict  law  doth  not  countenance  your  recovering  those  lands  of 
your  ancestors  ....  Visit  your  friends  often,  and  please  the 
queen  by  all  you  can,  for  all  the  great  lawyers  do  much  fear  her 

displeasure  I  do  see  the  queen  often,  she  doth  wax  weak 

since  the  late  troubles,  and  Burleigh's  death  doth  often  draw 
tears  from  her  goodly  cheeks  ;  she  walketh  out  but  little,  medi- 
tates much  alone,  and  sometimes  writes  in  private  to  her  best 
Friends.  The  Scottish  matters  do  cause  much  discourse,  but  we 
know  not  the  true  grounds  of  state  business,  nor  venture  further 
on  such  ticklish  points.*  Her  highness  hath  done  honour  to  my 
poor  house  by  visiting  me,  and  seemed  much  pleased  at  what 
we  did  to  please  her.  My  son  made  her  a  fair  speech,  to  which 
she  did  give  most  gracious  reply.  The  women  did  dance  before 
her,  whilst  the  cornets  did  salute  from  the  gallery ;  and  she  did 
vouchsafe  to  eat  two  morsels  of  rich  comfit  cake,  and  drank  a 
small  cordial  out  of  a  golden  cup.  She  had  a  marvellous  suit 
of  velvet,  borne  by  four  of  her  first  women-attendants  in  rich 
apparel ;  two  ushers  did  go  before ;  and  at  going  up  stairs  she 
called  for  a  staff,  and  was  much  wearied  in  walking  about  the 
house,  and  said  she  wished  to  come  another  day.  Six  drums 
and  six  trumpets  waited  in  the  court,  and  sounded  at  her  ap- 
proach and  departure.  My  wife  did  bear  herself  in  wonderous 
good  liking,  and  was  attired  in  a  purple  kirtle  fringed  with  gold; 
and  myself  in  a  rich  band  and  collar  of  needlework,  and  did- 


grounded  in  conscience,  but  that 


*  Bohun's  Memoirs. 

f  The  mysterious  affair  of  the  Cowrie  conspiracy  is  probably  here  alluded  to. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


49J 


wear  a  goodly  stuff  of  the  bravest  cut  and  fashion,  with  an  un- 
der bodv  of  silver  and  loops.  The  queen  was  much  in  commen- 
dation of  our  appearances,  and  smiled  at  the  ladies  who  in  their 
dances  often  came  up  to  the  step  on  which  the  seat  was  fixed  to 
make  their  obeisance,  and  so  fell  back  into  their  order  again. 
The  younger  Markham  did  several  gallant  feats  on  a  horse  be- 
fore the  gate,  leaping  down  and  kissing  his  sword,  then  mount- 
ing swiftly  on  the  saddle,  and  passing  a  lance  with  much  skill. 
The  day  well  nigh  spent,  the  queen  went  and  tasted  a  small 
beverage  that  was  set  out  in  divers  rooms  where  she  might  pass, 
and  then  in  much  order  was  attended  to  her  palace ;  the  cornets 
and  trumpets  sounding  through  the  streets,"  &c. 

The  fate  of  Essex  was  now  drawing  to  a  crisis.  The  mixture 
of  severity  and  indulgence  with  which  he  had  been  treated ; — 
her  majesty's  perseverance  in  refusing  to  re-admit  him  to  her 
presence,  though  all  other  liberty  was  restored  to  him  ; — her  re- 
peated assurances  that  she  meant  only  to  chastise,  not  to  ruin 
him,  contrasted  with  the  tedious  duration  of  her  anger  and  the 
utter  uncertainty  when,  or  by  what  means,  it  was  to  be  brought 
to  an  end  ; — had  long  detained  him  in  the  mazes  of  a  torment- 
ing uncertainty :  but  he  at  length  saw  the  moment  when  her 
disposition  towards  him  must  be  brought  to  a  test  which  he  se- 
cretly assured  his  adherents  that  he  should  regard  as  decisive. 

The  term  for  which  the  earl  had  held  the  lucrative  farm  of 
sweet  wines  would  expire  at  Michaelmas ;  he  was  soliciting  its 
renewal  ;  and  on  the  doubtful  balance  of  success  or  failure  his 
already  wavering  loyalty  was  suspended.  He  spared  on  this 
occasion  no  expressions  of  humility  and  contrition  which  might 
soften  the  heart  of  the  queen : — He  professed  to  kiss  the  hand 
and  the  rod  with  which  he  had  been  corrected ;  to  look  forward 
to  the  beholding  again  those  blessed  eyes,  so  long  his  Cynosure, 
as  the  only  real  happiness  which  he  could  ever  enjoy ;  and  he 
declared  his  intention  with  Nebuchodonosor,  to  make  his  habita  - 
tion with  the  beasts  of  the  field,  to  eat  hay  like  an  ox,  and  to 
be  wet  with  the  dews  of  heaven,  until  it  should  please  the  queen 
to  restore  him.  To  lord  Henry  Howard,  who  was  the  bearer  of 
these  dutiful  phrases,  Elizabeth  expressed  her  unfeigned  satis- 
faction to  find  him  in  so  proper  a  frame  of  mind  ;  she  only  wish- 
ed, she  said,  that  his  deeds  might  answer  to  his  words ;  and  as 
he  had  long  tried  her  patience,  it  was  fit  that  she  should  make 
some  experiment  of  his  humility.  Her  father  would  never  have 
endured  such  perversity  ;•— but  she  would  not  now  look  back : 
— All  that  glittered  was  not  gold,  but  if  such  results  came  forth 
from  her  furnace,  she  should  ever  after  think  the  better  of  her 
chemistry.  Soon  after,  having  detected  the  motive  of  immedi- 
ate interest  which  had  inspired  such  moving  expressions  of  peni- 
tence and  devotion,  her  disgust  against  Essex  was  renewed ; 
and  in  the  end,  she  not  only  rejected  his  suit,  but  added  the  in- 
sulting words,  that  an  ungovernable  beast  must  be  stinted  of  his 
provender,  in  order  to  bring  him  under  management. 

The  spirit  of  Essex  could*  endure  no  more;-— rage  took  pos- 


492 


THE  COURT  OF 


session  of  his  soul ;  and  equally  desperate  in  fortune  and  uft 
mind,  he  prepared  to  throw  himself  into  any  enterprise  which 
the  rashness  of  the  worst  advisers  could  suggest.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  he  is  reported,  in  speaking  of  the  queen,  to  have  used 
the  expression,  maliciously  repeated  to  her  by  certain  court-la- 
dies,— that  through  old  age  her  mind  was  become  as  crooked  as 
her  carcase : — words  which  might  have  sufficed  to  plunge  him 
at  once  from  the  height  of  favour  into  irretrievable  ruin. 

The  doors  of  Essex-house,  hitherto  closed  night  and  day  since 
the  disgrace  of  the  earl,  were  now  thrown  popularly  open.  Sir 
Gilly  Merrick,  his  steward,  kept  an  open  table  for  all  military 
adventurers,  men  of  broken  fortunes  and  malcontents  of  every 
party.  Sermons  were  delivered  there  daily  by  the  most  zealous 
and  popular  of  the  puritan  divines,  to  which  the  citizens  ran  in 
crowds ;  and  lady  Rich,  who  had  lately  been  placed  under  re- 
straint by  the  queen  and  was  still  in  deep  disgrace,  on  account 
of  her  intermeddling  in  the  affairs  of  her  brother,  and  on  the 
further  ground  of  her  scandalous  intrigue  with  lord  Montjoy, 
became  a  daily  visitant.  The  earl  himself,  listening  again  to 
the  suggestions  of  his  secretary  Cuff,  whom  he  had  once  dis- 
missed on  account  of  his  violent  and  dangerous  character,  began 
to  meditate  new  counsels. 

An  eye-witness  has  thus  impressively  described  the  struggles 
of  his  mind  ?<t  this  juncture.  "It  resteth  with  me  in  opinion, 
that  ambition  thwarted  in  its  career  doth  speedily  lead  on  to 
madness  :  herein  I  am  strengthened  by  what  I  learn  in  my  lord  of 
Essex,  who  shifteth  from  sorrow  and  repentance  to  rage  and  re- 
bellion so  suddenly  as  well  proveth  him  devoid  of  good  reason 
or  right  mind ;  in  my  last  discourse  he  uttered  such  strange 
words,  bordering  on  such  strange  designs,  that  made  me  hasten 
forth,  and  leave  his  presence.  Thank  heaven  I  am  safe  at  home, 
and  if  I  go  in  such  troubles  again,  I  deserve  the  gallows  for  a 
meddling  fool.  His  speeches  of  the  queen  becometh  no  man 
who  hath  mens  sana  in  corpore  sano.  He  hath  ill  advisers,  and 
much  evil  hath  sprung  from  this  source. 

"  The  queen  well  knoweth  how  to  humble  the  haughty  spirit, 
the  haughty  spirit  knoweth  not  how  to  yield,  and  the  man's  soul 
seemeth  tossed  to  and  fro  like  the  waves  of  a  troubled  sea."* 

The  affinity  of  Essex  to  the  crown  by  his  descent  from  Tho- 
mas of  Woodstock  has  been  already  adverted  to ; — it  seems 
never  to  have  awakened  the  slightest  jealousy  in  the  mind  of 
Elizabeth ;  but  the  absurd  vaunts  of  some  of  his  followers,  com- 
mented upon  by  the  malicious  ingenuity  of  his  enemies,  had  suf- 
ficed to  excite  sinister  suspicions  in  the  bosom  of  the  king  of 
Scots.  For  the  purpose  of  counteracting  these,  lord  Montjoy, 
near  the  beginning  of  the  earl's  captivity,  had  sent  Henry  Leigh 
into  Scotland,  to  give  the  king  assurance  that  Essex  entertained 
none  of  the  ambitious  views  which  had  been  imputed  to  him,  but 
was,  on  the  contrary,  firmly  resolved  to  endure  no  succession 

*  Sir  John  Harrington  in  Jiugs;. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


499 


but  that  of  his  majesty  ;  further  hinting  at  some  steps  for  caus- 
ing his  right  to  be  recognised  in  the  lifetime  of  the  queen.  From 
this  time  a  friendly  correspondence  had  been  maintained  between 
James  and  the  Essex  party  ;  and  Montjoy,  on  being  appointed 
lord  deputy  of  Ireland,  had  gone  so  far  as  to  offer  to  the  king  to 
bring  over  to  England  such  part  of  his  army  as,  acting  in  con- 
cert with  the  force  that  the  earl  would  be  able  to  raise,  might 
compass  by  force  the  object  which  tb.ey  had  in  view.  By  some 
delay  in  the  return  of  the  messenger,  added  to  the  dilatoriness 
or  reluctance  of  James,  this  plan  was  frustrated  ;  but  some  time 
after  Essex,  impatient  alike  of  the  disgrace  and  the  inactivity 
of  his  present  restraint,  urged  Montjoy  to  bring  over  his  forces, 
without  waiting  for  the  tardy  co-operation  of  the  king  of  Scots. 
The  lord  deputy  replied,  "  that  he  thought  it  more  lawful  to 
enter  into  such  a  course  with  one  that  had  interest  in  the  suc- 
cession than  otherwise  ;  and  though  he  had  been  led  before  out 
of  the  opinion  he  had  to  do  his  country  good  by  the  establishment 
of  the  succession,  and  to  deliver  my  lord  of  Essex  out  of  the 
danger  he  was  in  ;  yet  now  his  life  appeared  to  be  safe,  to  re- 
store his  fortune  only,  and  to  save  himself  from  the  danger  which 
hangs  over  him  by  discovery,  and  to  satisfy  my  lord  of  Essex's 
private  ambition,  he  would  not  enter  into  any  enterprise  of  that 
kind."* 

After  this  repulse,  Essex  as  a  last  resource  applied  himself 
once  more  to  the  court  of  Scotland,  and,  with  the  disingenuous- 
ness  inseparable  from  the  conduct  of  political  intrigue,  exerted 
all  his  efforts  to  deceive  James  into  a  belief  that  the  party  now 
in  power  were  pensioners  of  Spain,  hired  to  the  support  of  the 
pretended  title  of  the  Infanta.  He  further  alarmed  the  king  by 
representing  that  the  places  most  proper  for  the  reception  of 
Spanish  forces  were  all  in  the  hands  of  the  creatures  of  Cecil ; — 
Raleigh  being  governor  of  Jersey,  lord  Cobham  warden  of  the 
Cinque  Ports,  lord  Burleigh  president  of  the  North,  and  sir 
George  Carew  president  of  Munster.  In  consequence,  he  urged 
James  to  lose  no  time  in  claiming  by  his  ambassadors  a  solemn 
acknowledgment  of  his  title.  These  suggestions  were  listened  to  j 
and  Essex  was  animated  to  proceed  in  his  perilous  career  by 
hopes  of  the  speedy  arrival  of  the  Scottish  embassy.  In  the 
meantime  he  formed  a  council  of  five  of  the  friends  most  devoted 
to  his  cause : — the  earl  of  Southampton,  sir  Charles  Davers,  sir 
Ferdinando  Gorges,  sir  John  Davis  surveyor  of  the  ordnance, 
and  John  Littleton  esquire,  of  Frankley.  By  this  junto,  which 
met  privately  at  Drury-house,  the  plot  was  matured.  The  earl 
delivered  in  a  list  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  nobles,  knights 
and  gentlemen,  on  whose  attachment  he  thought  he  could  rely : 
it  was  agreed  that  an  attempt  should  be  made  to  seize  the  palace, 
and  to  persuade  or  compel  the  queen  to  remove  from  her  coun- 
cils the  enemies  of  the  earl,  and  to  summon  a  new  parliament ; 

*  Confession  of  sir  Charles  Davers,  in  Birch's  Memoirs, 


494 


THE  COURT  OF 


and  their  respective  parts  were  allotted  to  the  intended  actor? 
in  this  scene  of  violence. 

Meantime  the  extraordinary  concourse  to  Essex-house  had 
fixed  the  attention  of  government,  and  measures  were  taken  for 
obtaining  intelligence  of  all  that  passed  within  its  walls.  Lord 
Henry  Howard,  who  had  made  a  timely  secession  from  the 
leader  to  whom,  in  terms  of  the  grossest  adulation,  he  had  pro- 
fessed everlasting  and  unlimited  attachment,  is  believed  to  have 
discovered  some  of  his  secret  s;  and  a  domestic  educated  with 
the  earl  from  childhood,  and  entirely  trusted  by  him,  had  also  the 
baseness  to  reveal  his  counsels.  On  the  7th  of  February  1601. 
the  privy  council,  being  fully  informed  of  his  proceedings,  dis- 
patched secretary  Herbert  to  summon  the  earl  to  appear  before 
them.  But  apprehensive  that  he  was  betrayed,  and  conscious 
that  the  steps  which  he  had  already  taken  were  incapable  of 
being  justified,  the  earl  excused  himself  from  attending  the  coun- 
cil, and  summoning  around  him  the  most  confidential  of  his 
friends,  he  represented  to  them  that  they  were  on  the  point  of 
being  committed  to  prison,  and  bade  them  decide  whether  they 
would  quietly  submit  themselves  to  the  disposal  of  their  enemies, 
or  attempt  thus  prematurely  to  carry  into  effect  the  designs 
which  they  had  meditated. 

During  the  debate  which  ensued,  a  person  entered  who  pre- 
tended to  be  deputed  by  the  people  of  London  to  assure  the  earl 
of  their  cordial  co-operation  in  his  cause.  This  decided  the 
question  ;  Essex,  with  a  more  cheerful  countenance,  began  to 
expatiate  on  the  affection  borne  him  by  the  city,  and  his  expec- 
tation of  being  joined  by  sheriff  Smith  with  a  thousand  of  the 
trained  bands  whom  he  commanded.  The  following  morning 
was  fixed  for  the  insurrection  ;  and  in  the  meantime  emissaries 
were  dispatched,  who  ran  about  the  town  in  all  directions,  to 
spread  among  the  friends  of  the  earl  the  alarm  of  a  design  upon 
his  life  by  Cobham  and  Raleigh. 

Early  on  the  morrow  the  lord  keeper,  the  lord  chief  justice, 
and  sir  W.  Knolles  comptroller  of  the  household,  arrived  at 
Essex-house  and  demanded  entrance  on  the  part  of  the  queen. 

They  themselves  were  with  difficulty  admitted  through  the 
wicket  of  the  gate,  which  was  now  kept  shut  and  guarded  ;  but 
all  their  servants,  except  the  purse-bearer  were  excluded.  They 
beheld  the  court-yard  filled  with  a  confused  multitude,  in  the 
midst  of  which  stood  Essex,  accompanied  by  the  earls  of  South" 
ampton  and  Rutland  and  many  others.  The  lord  keeper  demand- 
ed in  the  name  of  her  majesty  the  cause  of  this  unusual  concourse; 
adding  an  assurance  that  if  any  had  injured  his  lordship,  he 
should  find  redress.  Essex  in  a  vehement  manner  complained 
of  letters  counterfeited  in  his  name, — of  designs  against  his  life, 
— of  perfidious  dealings  towards  him  :  but  the  conference  was 
interrupted  by  the  clamours  of  the  crowd,  some  of  whom  threat- 
ened violence  against  the  court-emissaries.  Without  further 
parley  the  earl  conducted  them  into  the  house,  where  he  ordered 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


495 


them  to  be  safely  kept  as  hostages  till  his  return  from  the  city, 
whither  he  was  hastening  to  take  measures  with  the  lord -mayor 
and  sheriffs. 

About  ten  o'clock  he  entered  the  city  attended  by  the  "  chief 
gallants''  of  the  time  ;  as  the  earls  of  Southampton  and  Rutland, 
lords  Sandys  and  Monteagle,  sir  Charles  Davers,  sir  Christopher 
Blount  and  many  others.  As  they  passed  Fleet-street,  they 
cried,  "  For  the  queen,  for  the  queen !"  in  other  places  they 
gave  out  that  Cobham  and  Raleigh  would  have  murdered  the 
earl  in  his  bed ;  and  the  multitude,  universally  well  affected  to 
Essex,  eagerly  reported  that  he  and  the  queen  were  reconciled, 
and  that  she  had  appointed  him  to  ride  in  that  triumphant  man- 
ner through  the  city  to  his  house  in  Seething-lane.  The  lord- 
mayor  however  received  warning  from  the  privy-council  to  look 
well  to  his  charge,  and  by  eleven  the  gates  were  closed  and 
strongly  guarded.  The  earl,  though  a  good  deal  disconcerted 
at  observing  no  preparations  for  joining  him,  made  his  way  to 
the  house  of  sheriff  Smith ;  but  this  officer  slipped  out  at  his 
back  door,  and  hastened  to  the  lord-mayor  for  instructions.  He 
next  proceeded  to  an  armourer's  and  demanded  ammunition, 
which  was  refused ;  and  while  he  was  hastening  to  and  fro, 
without  aim  or  object  as  appears,  lord  Burleigh  courageously  en- 
tered the  city  with  a  king-at-arms  and  half  a  score  horsemen,  and 
in  two  places  proclaimed  the  earl  and  all  his  adherents  traitors. 
A  pistol  was  fired  at  him  by  one  of  the  followers  of  Essex  ;  but 
the  multitude  showed  no  disposition  to  molest  him,  and  he  has- 
tened back  to  assure  the  queen  that  a  popular  commotion  was 
not  at  all  to  be  apprehended. 

The  palace  was  now  fortified  and  double-guarded ;  the  streets 
were  blocked  up  with  carts  and  coaches;  and  the  earl,  after 
wandering  in  vain  about  the  town  till  two  o'clock,  finding  him- 
self joined  by  none  of  the  citizens  and  deserted  by  a  great  por- 
tion of  his  original  followers,  determined  to  make  his  way  back 
to  Essex-house.  At  Ludgate  he  was  opposed  by  some  troops 
posted  there  by  order  of  the  bishop;  and,  drawing  his  sword,  he 
directed  sir  Christopher  Blount  to  attack  them;  "which  he  did 
with  great  bravery,  and  killed  Waite,  a  stout  officer,  who  had 
been  formerly  hired  by  the  earl  of  Leicester  to  assassinate  sir 
Christopher,  and  who  was  now  abandoned  by  his  company."* 
In  the  end,  however,  the  earl  was  repulsed  with  the  loss  of  one 
young  gentleman  killed  and  sir  Christopher  Blount  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner ;  and  retreating  with  his  diminished  band  to 
the  river  side,  he  returned  by  water  to  his  own  house. 

He  was  much  disappointed  to  find  that  his  three  prisoners  had 
been  libe'rated  in  his  absence  by  sir  Ferdinando  Gorges ;  but 
sanguine  to  the  last  in  his  hopes  of  an  insurrection  of  the  citizens 
in  his  favour,  he  proceeded  to  fortify  his  house  in  the  best  man- 
ner that  circumstances  would  admit. 

It  was  soon  invested  by  a  considerable  force  under  the  lord 
admiral,  the  earls  of  Cumberland  and  Lincoln,  and  other  com- 


*  Birch's  Memoirs. 


496 


THE  COURT  OF 


manders.  Sir  Robert  Sidney  was  ordered  to  summon  the  little 
garrison  to  surrender,  when  the  eari  of  Southampton  demanded 
terms  and  hostages;  but  being  answered  that  none  would  be 
granted  to  rebels,  except  that  the  ladies  within  the  house  and 
their  women  would  be  permitted  to  depart  if  they  desired  it,  the 
defenders  declared  their  resolution  to.  hold  out,  and  the  assault 
continued. 

Lord  Sandys,  the  oldest  man  in  the  party,  encouraged  the 
earl  in  the  resolution  which  he  once  appeared  to  have  adopted, 
of  cutting  a  way  through  the  assailants;  observing,  that  the 
boldest  courses  were  the  safest,  and  that  at  all  events  it  was 
more  honourable  for  men  of  quality  to  die  sword  in  hand  than 
by  the  axe  of  the  executioner : — but  Essex,  who  had  not  yet  re- 
signed the  flattering  hopes  of  life,  was  easily  moved  by  the  tears 
and  cries  of  the  surrounding  females  to  yield  to  less  courageous, 
not  more  prudent  counsels.  Captain  Owen  Salisbury,  a  brave 
veteran,  seeing  that  all  was  lost,  planted  himself  at  a  window 
bare-headed,  for  the  purpose  of  being  slain :  on  receiving  from 
one  of  the  assailants  a  bullet  on  the  side  of  his  head,  "  O !" 
cried  he,  "that  thou  hadst  been  so  much  my  friend  to  have  shot 
but  a  little  lower !''  Of  this  wound  however  he  expired  the  next 
morning. 

About  six  in  the  evening  the  earl  made  known  his  willingness 
to  surrender,  on  receiving  assurance,  for  himself  and  his  friends, 
of  civil  treatment  and  a  legal  trial ;  and  permission  for  a  cler- 
gyman named  Aston  to  attend  him  in  prison : — the  lord  admiral 
answered  that  of  the  two  first  articles  there  could  be  no  doubt, 
and  for  the  last  he  would  intercede.  The  house  was  then 
yielded  with  all  that  were  in  it.  During  that  night  the  prin- 
cipal offenders  were  lodged  in  Lambeth  palace,  the  next  day 
they  were  conveyed  to  the  Tower ;  while  the  common  prisons 
received  the  accomplices  of  meaner  rank. 

On  February  19th  Essex  and  Southampton  were  brought  to 
their  trial  before  the  house  of  peers ;  lord  Buckhurst  sitting  as 
lord  high  steward.  Essex  inquired  whether  peers  might  not  be 
challenged  like  common  jurymen,  but  was  answered  in  the  ne- 
gative. He  pleaded  Not  guilty;  professed  his  unspotted  loyalty 
to  his  queen  and  country,  and  earnestly  laboured  to  give  to  his 
attempt  to  raise  the  city  the  colour  of  a  necessary  act  of  self- 
defence  against  the  machinations  of  enemies  from  whom  his  life 
was  in  danger.  Had  this  interpretation  of  his  conduct  been  ad- 
mitted, possibly  his  offence  might  not  have  come  within  the  limits 
of  treason  :  but  it  was  held,  that  his  refusal  to  attend  the  council ; 
the  imprisonment  of  the  three  great  officers  sent  to  him  by  the 
queen  ;  and,  above  all,  the  consultations  held  at  Drury-house  for 
bringing  soldiers  from  Ireland,  for  surprising  the  Tower,  for 
seizing  the  palace,  and  for  compelling  the  queen  to  remove  cer- 
tain persons  from  her  counsels  and  to  call  a  parliament,  assigned 
to  his  overt  acts  the  character  of  designs  against  the  state  itself. 
For  the  confessions  of  his  accomplices,  by  which  the  secrets  of 
the  Drury-house  meetings  were  brought  to  light,  he  was  evi^ 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


497 


dently  unprepared  ;  and  the  native  violence  of  his  temper  broke 
out  in  invectives  against  those  associates,  by  whom,  as  he  falsely 
pretended,  all  these  criminal  designs  had  been  originally  sug- 
gested to  his  mind.  This  evidence,  he  said,  had  been  elicited  by 
the  hope  of  pardon  and  reward; — let  those  who  had  given  it 
enjoy  their  lives  with  impunity ; — to  him  death  was  far  more 
welcome  than  life.  Whatever  interpretation  lawyers  might  put 
upon  it,  the  necessity  of  self-defence  against  Cobham,  Raleigh, 
and  Cecil,  had  impelled  him  to  raise  the  city;  and  he  was  con- 
soled by  the  testimony  of  a  spotless  conscience.  Lord  Cobham 
here  rose,  and  protested  that  he  had  never  acted  with  malice 
against  the  earl,  although  he  had  disapproved  of  his  ambition. 
"  On  my  faith,"  replied  the  earl,  "  I  would  have  given  this  right 
hand  to  have  removed  from  the  queen  such  an  informer  and  ca- 
lumniator." 

He  afterwards  proceeded  to  accuse  sir  Robert  Cecil  of  having 
affirmed  that  the  title  of  Infanta  was  equally  well  founded  with 
that  of  any  other  claimant.  But  the  secretary  here  stepped  for- 
ward to  entreat  that  the  prisoner  might  be  obliged  to  bring  proof 
of  his  assertions  ;  and  it  thus  became  manifest,  and  in  the  end 
was  confessed  with  contrition  by  the  earl  himself,  that  he  had 
advanced  this  charge  on  false  grounds. 

It  was  with  better  reason  that  he  reproached  Francis  Bacon, 
who  then  stood  against  him  as  queen's  counsel,  with  the  glaring 
inconsistency  between  his  past  professions  and  his  present  con- 
duct. This  cowardly  desertion  of  his  generous  and  affectionate 
friend  and  patron, — or  rather  this  open  revolt  from  him,  this 
shameless  attack  upon  him  in  the  hour  of  his  extreme  distress 
and  total  ruin, — forms  indeed  the  foulest  of  the  many  blots  which 
stain  the  memory  of  this  illustrious  person  :  it  may  even  be  pro- 
nounced, on  a  deliberate  survey  of  all  its  circumstances,  the 
basest  and  most  profligate  act  of  that  reign,  which  yet  affords 
examples,  in  the  conduct  of  its  public  men,  of  almost  every  spe- 
cies of  profligacy  and  baseness.  That  it  continued  to  be  matter 
of  general  reproach  against  him,  clearly  appears  from  the  long 
and  laboured  apology  which  Bacon  thought  it  necessary,  several 
years  afterwards,  to  address  to  lord  Montjoy,  then  earl  of  De- 
von ; — an  apology  which  extenuates  in  no  degree  the  turpi- 
tude of  the  fact;  but  which  may  be  consulted  for  a  number  of 
highly  curious,  if  authentic,  particulars. 

The  earl  of  Southampton  likewise  pleaded,  Not  guilty,  and 
professed  his  inviolate  fidelity  towards  her  majesty  :  he  excused 
whatever  criminality  he  might  have  fallen  into,  by  the  warmth 
of  his  attachment  for  Essex,  and  behaved  throughout  with  a  m  ad- 
ness and  an  ingenuous  modesty  which  moved  all  hearts  in  his 
favour.  After  a  trial  of  eleven  hours,  sentence  of  Guilty  was 
unanimously  pronounced  on  both  the  prisoners  Southampton, 
in  an  affecting  manner,  imnlored  all  present  to  intercede  for  him 
with  her  majesty,  and  Essex,  with  great  earnestness,  joined  in 
this  petition  of  his  unfortunate  friend  :  as  to  himself,  he  said,  he 
was  not  anxious  for  life  ;  wishing  for  nothing  more  than  to  lay  it 

3R 


498 


THE  COURT  OF 


down  with  entire  fidelity  towards  God  and  his  prince. — Yet  he 
would  have  no  one  insinuate  to  the  queen  that  he  despised  her 
mercy,  though  he  believed  he  should  not  too  submissively  im- 
plore it :  and  he  hoped  all  men  would  in  their  consciences  acquit 
him,  though  the  law  had  pronounced  him  guilty.  Such  was  the 
lofty  tone  of  self  justification  assumed  by  Essex  on  this  memo- 
rable occasion,  when  his  pride  was  roused  and  his  temper  exas- 
perated, by  the  open  war  of  recrimination  and  reproaches  into 
which  he  had  so  unadvisedly  plunged  with  his  personal  enemies ; 
and  by  the  cruel  and  insolent  invectives  of  the  crown  lawyers. 
But  he  was  soon  to  undergo  on  this  point  a  most  remarkable  and 
total  change. 

The  mind  of  the  earl  of  Essex  was  deeply  imbued  with  senti- 
ments of  religion :  from  early  youth  he  had  conversed  much 
with  divines  of  the  stricter  class,  whom  he  held  in  habitual  reve- 
rence ;  and  conscious  in  the  conduct  of  his  past  life  of  many 
deviations  from  the  Gospel  rule  of  right,  he  now,  in  the  immedi- 
ate prospect  of  its  violent  termination,  surrendered  himself  into 
the  hands  of  these  spiritual  guides  with  extraordinary  humility 
and  implicit  submission.  To  the  criminality  of  his  late  attempt, 
his  conscience  was  not  however  awakened ;  he  seems  to  have 
believed,  that  in  contriving  the  fall  of  his  enemies,  he  was  at  the 
same  time  deserving  the  thanks  of  his  country,  oppressed  by 
their  mal -administration  ;  and  he  repelled  all  the  efforts  of  Dr. 
Dove,  by  whom  he  was  first  visited,  to  inspire  him  with  a  differ- 
ent sense  of  this  part  of  his  conduct.  But  his  favourite  divine, 
Mr.  Aston, — who  is  described  by  a  contemporary  as  "  a  man 
base,  fearful  and  mercenary/'  in  whom  the  earl  was  much  de- 
ceived,— practised  with  more  success  upon  his  mind.  By  an 
artful  pretext  of  believing  him  to  have  aimed  at  the  crown,  he 
first  drew  him  into  a  warm  defence  of  his  conduct  on  this  point ; 
then  by  degrees  into  a  confession  of  all  that  he  had  really  plot- 
ted, and  the  concurrence  which  he  had  found  from  others.  This 
was  the  end  aimed  at  by  Aston,  or  by  the  government  which 
employed  him :  he  professed  that  he  could  not  reconcile  it  to  his 
conscience  to  conceal  treasons  so  foul  and  dangerous  ;  alarmed 
the  earl  with  all  the  terrors  of  religion :  and  finally  persuaded 
him,  that  a  full  discovery  of  his  accomplices  was  the  only  atone- 
ment which  he  could  make  to  heaven  and  earth.  The  humbled 
Essex  was  brought  to  entreat  that  several  privy-councillors,  of 
whom  Cecil  by  name  was  one,  should  J^e  sent  to  hear  his  con- 
fessions ;  and  so  strangely  scrupulous  did  he  show  himself  to 
leave  nothing  untold,  that  he  gave  up  even  the  letters  of  the 
king  of  Scots,  and  betrayed  every  private  friend  whom  attach- 
ment to  himself  had  ever  seduced  into  acquiescence  in  his  de- 
signs, or  a  nice  sense  of  honour  withheld  from  betraying  them. 

Sir  Henry  Nevil,  for  having  only  concealed  projects  in  which 
he  had  absolutely  refused  to  concur,  was  thus  exposed  to  the 
loss  of  his  appointment  of  ambassador  to  France  ;  to  imprison- 
ment, and  to  a  long  persecution  ; — and  lord  Montjoy  might  have 
suffered  even  capitally,  had  not  his  good  and  acceptable  service 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


499 


hi  Ireland  induced  the  queen  to  wink  at  former  offences.  Cuff* 
the  secretary  of  the  earl,  whom  he  sent  for  to  exhort  him  to  imi- 
tate his  sincerity,  sternly  upbraided  his  master  with  his  altered 
mind,  and  his  treachery  towards  those  who  had  evinced  the 
strongest  attachment  to  his  service:  but  the  earl  remained  un- 
moved by  his  reproaches,  and  calmly  prepared  for  death  in  the 
full  persuasion  that  he  had  now  worked  out  his  own  salvation. 

Elizabeth  had  behaved  on  occasion  of  the  late  insurrection 
with  all  her  wonted  fortitude  ;  even  at  the  time  when  Essex  was 
actually  in  the  city  and  a  false  report  was  brought  her  of  its  revolt 
to  him,  "she  was  never  more  amazed,"  says  Cecil  in  a  letter 
to  sir  Grorge  Carew,  "  than  she  would  have  been  to  have  heard 
of  a  fray  in  Fleet-street."  But  when,  in  the  further  progress 
of  the  affair,  she  beheld  her  once  loved  Essex  brought  to  the  bar 
for  high  treason  and  condemned  by  the  unanimous  verdict  of  his 
peers ;  when  it  rested  solely  with  herself  to  take  the  forfeit  of 
his  life  or  interfere  by  an  act  of  special  grace  for  his  preserv- 
ation,— her  grief,  her  agitation,  and  her  perplexity  became  ex- 
treme. A  sense  of  the  many  fine  qualities  and  rare  endowments 
of  her  kinsman, — his  courage,  his  eloquence,  his  generosity, 
and  the  affectionate  zeal  with  which  he  had  served  her ; — in- 
dulgence for  the  youthful  impetuosity  which  had  carried  him 
out  of  the  path  of  duty,  not  unmixed  with  compunction  for  that 
severe  and  contemptuous  treatment  by  which  she  had  exaspe- 
rated to  rebellion  the  spirit  which  mildness  might  have  softened 
into  penitence  and  submission  ; — above  all,  the  remaining  af- 
fection which  still  lurked  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart,  pleaded 
for  mercy  wich  a  force  scarcely  to  be  withstood.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  ingratitude,  the  neglect,  the  insolence  with  which  he 
had  occasionally  treated  her,  and  the  magnitude  of  his  offences, 
which  daily  grew  upon  her  by  his  own  confessions  and  those  of 
his  accomplices,  fatally  united  to  confirm  the  natural  bias  of  her 
mind  towards  severity. 

At  this  juncture,  Thomas  Leigh,  one  of  the  dark  and  desperate 
characters  whose  service  Essex  had  used  in  his  criminal  nego- 
tiations with  Tyrone,  by  an  atrocious  plot  for  entering  the 
palace,  seizing  the  person  of  the  queen  and  compelling  her  to 
sign  a  warrant  for  the  release  of  the  two  earls,  renewed  her  fears 
and  gave  fresh  force  to  her  anger.  Irresolute  for  some  days,  she 
once  countermanded  by  a  special  messenger  the  order  for  the 
death  of  Essex ;  then,  as  repenting  of  her  weakness,  she  signed 
a  second  warrant,  in  obedience  to  which  he  was  finally,  on  Fe- 
bruary 25th,  brought  to  the  scaffold. 

The  last  scene  was  performed  in  a  manner  correspondent  in 
all  respects  to  the  contrite  and  humiliated  frame  of  mind  to 
which  the  noble  culprit  had  been  wrought.  It  was  no  longer  the 
brave,  the  gallant,  the  haughty  earl  of  Essex,  the  favourite  of  the 
queen,  the  admiration  of  the  ladies,  the  darling  of  the  soldiery, 
the  idol  of  the  people  ; — no  longer  even  the  undaunted  prisoner, 
pouring  forth  invectives  against  his  enemies  in  answer  to  the 
charges  against  himself ;  loudly  persisting  in  the  innocence  of 


500 


THE  COURT  OF 


his  intentions,  instead  of  imploring  mercy  for  Ins  actions,  and 
defending  his  honour  while  he  asserted  a  lofty  indifference  to 
life ; — it  was  a  meek  and  penitent  offender,  profoundly  sensible 
of  all  his  past  transgressions,  but  taught  to  expect  their  remission 
in  the  world  to  which  he  was  hastening,  through  the  fevency  of 
his  prayers  and  the  plenitude  of  his  confessions  ;  and  prepared, 
as  his  latest  act,  to  perform  in  public  a  solemn  religious  service, 
composed  for  his  use  by  the  assistant  clergy,  whose  directions 
he  obeyed  with  the  most  scrupulous  minuteness.  Under  a  change 
so  entire,  even  his  native  eloquence  had  forsaken  him.  Sir 
Robert  Cecil,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  cool  and  critical  spec  - 
tator of  the  fatal  scene,  remarks  to  his  correspondent  that  "the 
conflict  between  the  flesh  and  the  soul  did  thus  far  appear,  that 
in  his  prayers  he  was  fain  to  be  helped  ;  otherwise  no  man  living 
could  pray  more  christianly  than  he  did. 

Essex  had  requested  of  the  queen  that  he  might  be  put  to 
death  in  a  private  manner  within  the  walls  of  the  Tower,  fear- 
ing, as  he  told  the  divines  who  attended  him,  that  "  the  acclama- 
tions of  the  citizens  should  have  hoven  him  up."  His  desire  in 
this  point  was  willingly  complied  with ;  but  about  a  hundred 
nobles,  knights  and  gentlemen  witnessed  the  transaction  from 
seats  placed  near  the  scaffold.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  chose  to 
station  himself  at  a  window  of  the  armoury  whence  he  could  see 
all  without  being  observed  by  the  earl.  This  action,  universally 
imputed  to  a  barbarous  desire  of  glutting  his  eyes  with  the  blood 
of  the  man  whom  he  hated  and  had  pursued  with  a  hostility 
more  unrelenting  than  that  of  Cecil  himself,  was  never  forgiven 
by  the  people,  who  detested  him  no  less  than  they  loved  and  ad- 
mired his  unfortunate  rival.  Several  years  after,  when  Raleigh 
in  his  turn  was  brought  to  the  same  end  in  the  same  place,  he 
professed  however,  and  perhaps  truly,  that  the  sorrowful  spec- 
tacle had  melted  him  to  tears :  meantime,  he  at  least  extracted 
from  the  late  events  large  gratification  for  another  ruling  pas- 
sion of  his  breast,  by  setting  to  sale  his  interest  in  procuring 
pardons  to  gentlemen  concerned  in  the  insurrection.  Mr.  Lyt- 
tleton  in  particular  is  recorded  to  have  paid  him  then  thousand 
pounds  for  his  good  offices,  and  Mr.  Bainham  a  sum  not  speci- 
fied. The  life  of  the  earl  of  Southampton  was  spared,  at  the 
intercession  chiefly  of  Cecil,  but  he  was  confined  in  the  Tower 
till  the  death  of  the  queen  :  others  escaped  with  short  imprison- 
ments and  the  imposition  of  fines,  few  of  which  were  exacted ; 
sir  Fulk  Greville  having  humanely  made  it  his  business  to  re- 
present to  the  queen  that  no  danger  was  to  apprehended  from  a 
faction  which  had  lost  its  leader.  Four  only  of  the  principal 
conspirators  suffered  capitally;  sir  Christopher  Blount  and  sir 
Charles  Davers,  both  catholics,  sir  Gilly  Merrick  and  Henry 
Cuff. 

Those  ambassadors  from  the  king  of  Scots  on  whose  co-opera- 
tion Essex  had  placed  his  chief  reliance,  now  arrived  ;  and  find- 
ing themselves  too  late  for  other  purposes,  they  obeyed  their 
master's  instructions  in  such  a  case  by  offering  to  the  queen  his 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


501 


warmest  congratulations  on  her  escape  from  so  foul  and  danger- 
ous a  conspiracy.  They  were  further  charged  to  make  secret 
inquiry  whether  James's  correspondence  with  Essex  and  concur- 
rence'in  the  late  conspiracy  had  come  to  her  knowledge  ;  and 
whether  any  measures  were  likely  to  be  taken  in  consequence 
for  his  exclusion  from  the  succession.  The  confessions  of  Essex 
to  the  privy-councillors  had  indeed  rendered  Elizabeth  perfectly 
acquainted  with  the  machinations  of  James  ;  but  resolute  to  re  - 
frain during  the  remnant  of  her  days  from  all  angry  discussions 
with  the  prince  whom  she  sa  w  destined  to  succeed  her,  she 'had 
caused  the  earl  to  be  not  only  requested,  but  commanded,  to  for- 
bear the  repetition  of  this  part  of  his  acknowledgments  on  the 
scaffold.  She  was  thus  left  free  to  receive  with  all  those  demon- 
strations of  amity  which  cost  her  nothing,  the  compliments  of 
James ;  and  she  remafhed  deliberately  ignorant  of  all  that  he 
desired  her  not  to  know.  The  Scottish  emissaries  had  the  further 
satisfaction  of  carrying  back  to  their  master  assurances  of  the 
general  consent  of  Englishmen  in  his  favour,  and  in  particular  a 
pledge  of  the  adherence  of  secretary  Cecil,  who  immediately 
opened  a  private  correspondence  with  the  king,  of  which  lord 
Henry  Howard,  who  had  formerly  conducted  that  of  Essex,  be- 
came the  willing  medium. 

There  is  good  evidence  that  the  peace  of  Elizabeth  received 
an  incurable  wound  by  the  loss  of  her  unhappy  favourite,  whicli 
she  daily  found  additional  cause  to  regret  on  perceiving  how 
completely  it  had  delivered  her  over  to  the  domination  of  his 
adversaries  ;  but  she  still  retained  the  resolution  to  pursue  witk 
unabated  vigour  the  great  objects  on  which  she  was  sensible  that 
the  mind  of  a  sovereign  ought  to  be  with  little  remission  em- 
ployed. The  memorable  siege  of  Ostend,  begun  during  this  sum- 
mer by  the  archduke  Albert,  fixed  her  attention  and  that  of  Eu- 
rope. The  defence  was  conducted  by  that  able  officer  sir  Fran- 
cis Vere,  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  English  auxiliaries,  whom  the 
States  had  enlisted  with  the  queen's  permission,  at  their  own 
expense.  Henry  IV.,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  observing  more 
nearly  the  event,  had  repaired  to  Calais.  The  queen  of  England, 
earnestly  desirous  of  a  personal  interview,  wrote  him  two  letters 
on  the  subject;  and  Henry  sent  in  return  marshal  Biron  and  two 
other  ambassadors  of  rank,  with  a  train  of  three  or  four  hundred 
persons,  whom  the  queen  received  with  high  honours,  and  caused 
to  accompany  her  in  her  progress.  During  her  visit  of  thirteen 
days  to  the  marquis  of  Winchester  at  Basing,  the  French  em- 
bassy was  lodged  at  the  house  of  lord  Sandys,  which  was  furnish- 
ed for  the  occasion  with  plate  and  hangings  from  Hampton-court; 
the  queen  defraying  all  the  charges,  which  were  more  than  those 
of  her  own  court  at  Basing.  She  made  it  her  boast  that  she  had 
in  this  progress  entertained  royally  a  royal  ambassador  at  her 
subjects'  houses ;  which  she  said  no  other  prince  could  do.  The 
meeting  of  the  two  sovereigns,  in  hopes  of  which  Elizabeth  had 
actually  gone  to  Dover,  could  not  for  some  unknown  reason  be 
at  last  arranged  ;  but  Henry,  at  the  particular  instance  of  his 


602 


THE  COURT  OF 


friend  and  ally,  sent  Sully  over  in  disguise  to  confer  confiden- 
tially with  her  respecting  an  important  political  project  which 
she  had  announced.  This  was  no  less  than  a  plan  for  humbling 
the  house  of  Austria,  and  establishing  a  more  perfect  balance  of 
power  in  Europe  by  uniting  into  one  State  the  seventeen  Flemish 
provinces.  It  was  an  idea,  as  Sully  declared  to  her,  which  had 
reviously  occurred  to  Henry  himself ;  and  the  coincidence  was 
attering  to  both ;  but  various  obstacles  were  found  likely  to 
retard  its  execution  till  a  period  to  which  Elizabeth  could  scarcely 
loo'k  forward.  One  advantage,  however,  was  gained  to  the  queen 
of  England  by  the  interview  ; — the  testimony  of  this  celebrated 
statesman,  recorded  in  his  own  memoirs,  to  the  solidity  of  her  judg- 
ment and  the  enlargement  of  her  views  ;  and  his  distinct  avowal 
that  she  was  in  all  respects  worthy  of  the  high  estimation  which 
she  had  for  more  than  forty  years  enjoyed  by  common  consent 
of  all  the  politicians  of  Europe. 

Ireland  was  still  a  source  to  Elizabeth  of  anxiety  and  embar- 
rassment. In  order  to  sustain  the  expenses  of  the  war,  she  suf- 
fered herself  to  be  prevailed  on  to  issue  base  money  for  the  pay 
of  the  troops  ; — a  mortifying  circumstance,  after  the  high  credit 
which  she  had  gained  by  that  restoration  of  the  coin  to  its  ori- 
ginal standard  which  was  one  of  the  first  acts  of  her  reign. 
Montjoy  in  the  meantime  was  struggling  with  vigour  and  pro- 
gressive success  against  the  disorders  of  the  country.  With  the 
assistance  of  sir  George  Carew,  president  of  Munster,  and  other 
able  commanders,  he  was  gradually  reducing  the  inferior  rebels 
and  cutting  off  the  supplies  of  Tyrone  himself :  but  the  courage 
of  this  insurgent  was  still  supported  by  the  hope  of  aids  from 
Spain ;  and  during  this  summer  two  bodies  of  Spanish  troops, 
one  of  four  thousand,  the  other  of  two  thousand  men,  made  good 
their  landing.  The  larger  number,  under  Aquila,  took  posses- 
sion of  Kinsale ;  the  smaller,  under  Ocampo,  was  joined  by  Ty- 
rone and  other  rebels  with  all  their  forces.  The  appearance  of 
affairs  was  alarming,  since  the  catholic  Irish  every  where  wel- 
comed the  Spaniards  as  deliverers  and  brethren :  but  Montjoy, 
after  blockading  Aquila  in  Kinsale,  marched  boldly  to  attack 
Ocampo  and  his  Irish  allies ;  gave  them  a  complete  defeat,  in 
which  the  Spanish  general  was  made  prisoner  and  Tyrone  com- 
pelled to  fly  into  Ulster ;  and  afterwards  returning  to  the  siege 
of  Kinsale,  compelled  Aquila  to  capitulate  on  condition  of  a  safe 
conveyance  to  their  own  country  for  himself  and  all  the  Spanish 
troops  in  the  island. 

The  state  of  the  queen's  mind,  while  the  fate  of  Ireland 
seemed  to  hang  in  the  balance,  and  while  the  impression  made 
by  the  attempt  of  Essex  was  still  recent,  is  depicted  in  the  fol- 
lowing letter  by  sir  John  Harrington  with  his  usual  minuteness 
and  vivacity. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


503 


To  Sir  Hugh  Portman,  knight.  (Dated  October  9th  1601.) 

«  For  six  weeks  I  left  my  oxen  arid  sheep  and  ven- 
tured to  court  Much  was  my  comfort  in  being  well  re- 
ceived, notwithstanding  it  is  an  ill  hour  for  seeing  the  queen. 
The  madcaps  are  all  in  riot,  and  much  evil  threatened.  In  good 
sooth  I  feared  her  majesty  more  than  the  rebel  Tyrone,  and 
wished  I  had  never  received  my  lord  of  Essex's  honour  of 
knighthood.  She  is  quite  disfavoured*  and  unattired,  and  these 
troubles  waste  her  much.  She  disregarded  every  costly  cover 
that  cometh  to  the  table,  and  taketh  little  but  manchet  and  suc- 
cory pottage.  Every  new  message  from  the  city  doth  disturb 
her,  and  she  frowns  on  all  the  ladies.  I  had  a  sharp  message 
from  her,  brought  by  my  lord  Buckhurst,  namely  thus.  «  Go  tell 
that  witty  fellow  my  godson  to  get  home ;  it  is  no  season  now  to 
fool  it  here.'  I  liked  this  as  little  as  she  doth  my  knighthood,  so 
took  to  my  boots,  and  returned  to  the  plough  in  bad  weather. 
I  must  not  say  much  even  by  this  trusty  and  sure  messenger,  but 
the  many  evil  plots  and  designs  hath  overcome  all  her  highness' 
sweet  temper.  She  walks  much  in  her  privy  chamber,  and 
stamps  with  her  feet  at  ill  news,  and  thrusts  her  rusty  sword  at 
times  into  the  an  as  in  great  rage.  My  lord  Buckhurst  is  much 
with  her,  and  few  else  since  the  city  business ;  but  the  dangers 
are  over,  and  yet  she  always  keeps  a  sword  by  her  table.  I  ob- 
tained a  short  audience  at  my  first  coming  to  court,  when  her 
highness  told  me,  if  ill  counsel  had  brought  me  so  far  from  home, 
she  wished  heaven  might  mar  that  fortune  which  she  had  mended. 
I  made  my  neace  in  this  point,  and  will  not  leave  my  poor  castle  of 
Kelston,  for  fear  of  finding  a  worse  elsewhere  as  others  have  done. 
I  will  eat  Aldborne  rabbits,  and  get  fish  as  you  recommend  from 
the  man  at  Curry-Rival ;  and  get  partridge  and  hares  when  I 
can  ;  and  my  venison  where  I  can ;  and  leave  all  great  matters 
to  those  that  like  them  better  than  myself.  ....  I  could  not 
move  in  any  suit  to  serve  your  neighbour  B.,  such  was  the  face 
of  things :  and  so  disordered  is  all  order,  that  her  highness  hath 
worn  but  one  change  of  raiment  for  many  days,  and  swears  much 
at  those  that  cause  her  griefs  in  such  wise,  to  the  no  small  dis- 
comfiture of  all  about  her,  more  especially  our  sweet  lady 
Arundel,  that  Venus  plus  quam  venusta." 

In  the  month  of  October,  1601,  the  wants  of  her  treasury  com- 
pelled the  queen  to  call  a  parliament.  Her  procession  to  the 
house  had  something  gloomy  and  ominous ;  the  people  still  re- 
senting the  death  of  their  favourite,  whom  they  never  could  be 
taught  to  regard  as  a  traitor  to  his  sovereign,  refused  to  gratify 
her  ears  as  formerly  with  those  affectionate  acclamations  on 
which  this  wise  and  gracious  princess  had  ever  placed  so  high  a 
value.  The  house  of  commons  however,  in  consideration  of  her 
extraordinary  expenses  in  the  Irish  wars,  granted  a  supply  large 


*  Changed  in  countenance. 


504 


THE  COURT  OF 


beyond  example.  Having  thus  deserved  well  of  her  majesty, 
they  ventured  to  revive  the  topic  of  monopolies,  the  crying 
grievance  of  the  age,  against  which  the  former  parliament  had 
petitioned  her,  but  without  effect.  It  was  universally  allowed, 
that  the  granting  of  exclusive  privileges  to  trade  in  certain  ar- 
ticles was  a  prerogative  inherent  in  the  crown ;  and  though  the 
practice  so  lavishly  adopted  by  Elizabeth  of  providing  in  this 
manner  for  her  courtiers  without  expense  to  herself,  had  render- 
ed the  evil  almost  intolerable,  the  ministerial  members  insisted 
strongly  that  no  right  existed  in  the  house  to  frame  a  bill  for  its 
redress.  It  was  maintained  by  them,  that  the  dispensing  power 
possessed  by  the  queen  would  enable  her  to  set  at  nought  any 
statute  which  could  be  made  in  this  matter ; — in  short,  that  she 
was  an  absolute  prince ;  and  consequently  that  the  mode  of  pe- 
tition, of  which  the  last  parliament  had  proved  the  inefficacy. 
was  the  only  course  of  proceeding  open  to  them.  Other  mem- 
bers, in  whose  bosoms  some  sparks  of  liberty  had  now  been 
kindled,  supported  the  bill  which  had  been  offered  to  the  house  : 
the  event  was,  that  in  the  midst  of  the  debate  the  queen  sent  for 
the  speaker  to  inform  him  that  she  would  voluntarily  cancel 
some  of  the  patents  which  had  excited  most  discontent. 

This  concession,  though  extorted  doubtless  by  necessity,  was 
yet  made  with  so  good  a  grace,  that  her  faithful  commons  were, 
filled  with  admiration  and  gratitude.  One  member  pronounced 
the  message  "  a  gospel  of  glad  tidings  ;"  others  employed  phrases 
of  adulation  equally  profane ; — a  committee  was  appointed  to 
return  their  acknowledgments  to  her  majesty,  who  kneeled  for 
some  time  at  her  feet,  while  the  speaker  enlarged  upon  her 
"preventing  grace  and  all  deserving  goodness."  She  graciously 
gave  thanks  to  the  commons  for  pointing  out  to  her  abuses  which 
might  otherwise  have  escaped  her  notice ;  since  the  truth,  as  she 
observed, ;  was  too  often  disguised  from  princes  by  the  persons 
about  them,  through  motives  of  private  interest :  and  thus,  with 
the  customary  assurances  of  her  loving  care  over  her  loyal  sub- 
jects, she  skilfully  accomplished  her  retreat  from  a  contest  in 
which  she  judged  perseverance  to  be  dangerous  and  final  success 
at  best  uncertain.  In  her  farewel  speech,  however,  at  the  close 
of  the  session,  she  could  not  refrain  from  observing,  in  reference 
to  this  matter,  that  she  perceived  private  respects  to  be  masked 
with  them  under  public  pretences.  Such  was  the  final  parting 
between  Elizabeth  and  her  last  parliament ! 

The  year  1602  was  not  fertile  of  domestic  incident.  One  of 
the  most  remarkable  circumstances  was  a  violent  quarrel  be- 
tween the  Jesuits  and  the  secular  priests  in  England.  The  lat- 
ter accused  the  former,  and  not  without  reason,  of  having  been 
the  occasion,  by  their  a  ssassination -plots  and  conspiracies 
against  the  queen  and  government,  of  all  the  severe  enactments 
under  which  the  English  catholics  had  groaned  since  the  fulmi- 
nation  of  the  papal  bull  against  her  majesty.  In  the  height  ol 
this  dispute,  intelligence  was  conveyed  to  the  privy-council  ot 
some  fresh  plots  on  the  part  of  the  Jesuits  and  their  adherents ; 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


505 


on  which  a  proclamation  was  immediately  issued,  banishing  this 
order  the  kingdom  on  pain  of  death  ;  and  the  same  penalty  was 
declared  againt  all  secular  priests  who  should  refuse  to  take  the 
oath  of  allegiance. 

The  queen  continued  to  pursue  from  habit,  and  probably  from 
policy  also,  amusements  for  which  all  her  relish  was  lost.  She 
went  a-maying  to  Mr.  Buckley's  at  Lewisham,  and  paid  several 
other  visits  in  the  course  of  the  year ; — but  her  efforts  were  un- 
availing ;  the  irrevocable  past  still  hung  upon  her  spirits.  About 
the  beginning  of  June,  in  a  conversation  with  M.  de  Beaumont 
the  French  ambassador,  she  owned  herself  weary  of  life;  then 
sighing,  whilst  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  she  advert  d  to  the 
death  of  Essex  ;  and  mentioned,  that  being  apprehensive,  from  his 
ambition  and  the  impetuosity  of  his  temper,  of  his  throwing  him- 
self into  some  rash  design  which  would  prove  his  ruin,  she  had 
repeatedly  counselled  him,  during  the  two  last  years,  to  content 
himself  with  pleasing  her,  and  forbear  to  treat  her  with  the  inso- 
lent contempt  which  he  had  lately  assumed  ;  above  all,  not  to 
touch  her  sceptre  ;  lest  she  should  be  compelled  to  punish  him 
by  the  laws  of  England,  and  not  according  to  her  own  laws ; 
which  he  had  found  too  mild  and  favourable  to  give  him  any 
cause  of  fear  :  but  that  her  advice,  however  salutary  and  affec- 
tionate, had  proved  ineffectual  to  prevent  his  ruin. 

A  letter  from  sir  John  Harrington  to  his  lady,  dated  Decem- 
ber 27th,  1602,  gives  the  following  melancholy  picture  of  the 
state  of  his  sovereign  and  benefactress. 

"  Sweet  Mall ; 

"  I  herewith  send  thee  what  I  would  God  none  did  know, 
some  ill-bodings  of  the  realm  and  its  welfare.  Our  dear  queen, 
may  royal  godmother  and  this  state's  natural  mother,  doth  now 
bear  some  show  of  human  infirmity  ;  too  fast,  for  that  evil  which 
we  shall  get  by  her  death,  and  too  slow,  for  that  good  which  she 
shall  get  by  her  releasement  from  pains  and  misery.  Dear  Mall, 
how  shall  I  speak  what  I  have  seen  or  what  I  have  felt  ?  thy 
good  silence  in  these  matters  emboldens  my  pen.  For  thanks 
to  the  sweet  God  of  silence,  thy  lips  do  not  wonton  out  of  dis- 
cretion's path  like  the  many  gossiping  dames  we  could  name, 
who  lose  their  husbands'  fast  hold  in  good  friends  rather  than 
hold  fast  their  own  tongues.  Now  I  will  trust  thee  with  great 
assurance ;  and  whilst  thou  dost  brood  over  thy  young  ones  in 
the  chamber,  thou  shalt  read  the  doings  of  thy  grieving  mate  in 
the  court.  I  find  some  less  mindful  of  what  they  are  soon  to 
lose,  than  of  what  they  may  perchance  hereafter  get :  Now,  on 
my  own  part,  I  cannot  blot  from  my  memory's  table  the  good- 
ness of  our  sovereign  lady  to  me,  even,  I  will  say,  before  born. 
Her  affection  to  my  mother,  who  waited  in  privy-chamber,  her 
bettering  the  state  of  my  father's  fortune  (which  I  have,  alas,  so 
much  worsted,)  her  watchings  over  my  youth,  her  liking  to  my 
free  speech  and  admiration  of  my  little  learning  and  poesy, 
which  I  did  so  much  cultivate  on  her  command,  have  rooted 

3S 


506 


THE  COURT  OF 


such  love,  such  dutiful  remembrance  of  her  princely  virtues,  that 
to  turn  askant  from  her  condition  with  tearless  eyes,  would  stain 
and  foul  the  spring  and  fount  of  gratitude.  It  was  not  many 
days  since  I  was  bidden  to  her  presence  ;  I  blessed  the  happy 
moment,  and  found  her  in  most  pitiable  state  ;  she  bade  the  arch- 
bishop ask  me  if  I  had  seen  Tyrone  ?  I  replied  with  reverence, 
that  I  had  seen  him  with  the  lord  deputy  ;  she  looked  up  with 
much  choler  and  grief  in  her  countenance,  and  said  :  0  !  now 
it  mindeth  me  that  you  was  one  who  saw  this  man  elsewhere,* 
and  hereat  she  dopped  a  tear  and  smote  her  bosom  ;  she  held  in 
her  hand  a  golden  cup,  which  she  often  put  to  her  lips ;  but  in 
truth  her  heart  seemeth  too  full  to  need  more  filling.  This  sight 
moved  me  to  think  of  what  passed  in  Ireland,  and  I  trust  she  did 
not  less  think  on  some  who  were  busier  there  than  myself.  She 
gave  me  a  message  to  the  lord  deputy,  and  bade  me  come  to  the 
chamber  at  seven  o'clock.  Hereat  some  who  were  about  her 
did  marvel,  as  I  do  not  hold  so  high  place  as  those  she  did  not 

choose  to  do  her  commands  Her  majesty  inquired  of 

some  matters  which  I  had  written  ;  and  as  she  was  pleased  to 
note  my  fanciful  brain,  1  was  not  unheedful  to  feed  her  humour, 
and  read  some  verses,  whereat  she  smiled  once,  and  was  pleased 
to  say  ;  '  When  thou  dost  feel  creeping  time  at  thy  gate,  these 
fooleries  will  please  thee  less ;  I  am  past  my  relish  for  such 
matters  ;  thou  seest  my  bodily  meat  doth  not  suit  me  well ;  I 
have  eaten  but  one  ill-tasted  cake  since  yesternight.'  She  rated 
most  grievously  at  noon  at  some  one  who  minded  not  to  bring 
up  certain  matters  of  account  :  several  men  have  been  sent  to, 
and  when  ready  at  hand,  her  highness  hath  dismissed  in  anger; 
but  who,  dearest  Mall,  shall  say,  that  'your  highness  hath  for- 
gotten r' " 

During  the  campaign  of  1602,  lord  Montjoy  had  been  occu- 
pied in  Ireland  in  reducing  the  inferior  rebels  to  submission ; 
jn  building  forts  and  planting  garrisons  ;  at  the  same  time  wast- 
ing the  country  in  every  direction,  for  the  purpose  of  straiten- 
ing the  quarters  of  Tyrone  and  cutting  off  his  supplies.  At 
length,  having  collected  all  his  forces,  he  purposed  to  hazard  an 
attack  on  the  chieftain  himself,  in  the  midst  of  the  desert  fast- 
nesses to  which  he  had  driven  him  ;  but  the  difficulties  which  he 
experienced  from  the  impassable  state  of  the  roads,  the  treachery 
of  scouts  and  the  inclemency  of  the  season,  compelled  him  to 
defer  this  undertaking  till  the  return  of  spring.  Meantime,  such 
was  the  extremity  of  distress  to  which  Tyrone  had  been  reduced, 
that  numbers  of  his  people  had  perished  by  hunger ;  and  perceiv- 
ing the  remnant  fast  diminishing  by  daily  desertion,  he  renewed 
the  offer  of  surrender  on  certain  conditions  which  he  had  pro- 
pounded some  months  before.  At  that-stime,  Cecil  had  once  pre- 
vailed upon  her  majesty,  for  the  sake  of  avoiding  the  intolerable 
expense  of  a  further  prosecution  of  the  Irish  war,  to  sign  the 

*  Harrington  had  been  at  a  conference  held  with  him  by  Essex  ;  for  which  he 
had  been  severely  rated  by  the  queen. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


507 


rebel's  pardon  ; — but  she  had  immediately  retracted  the  conces- 
sion, and  all  that  he  was  able  finally  to  gain  of  her,  by  the  inter- 
cession of  the  French  ambassador,  was  a  promise,  that  if  Tyrone 
were  not  taken  by  the  lord  deputy  before  winter,  she  would  con- 
sent to  pardon  him.  About  Christmas  her  council  urged  upon  her 
the  fulfilment  of  this  engagement;  but  she  replied  with  warmth, 
that  she  would  not  begin  at  herbage  to  treat  with  her  subjects, 
nor  leave  such  an  ill  example  after  her  decease.* 

The  importunities  of  her  ministers,  however,  among  whom 
Tyrone  is  said  to  have  made  himself  friends,  finally  overpow- 
ered the  reluctance  of  the  queen  ;  and  she  authorised  the  deputy 
to  grant  the  rebel  his  life,  with  some  part  of  the  terms  which  he 
asked  ;  but  so  extreme  was  her  mortification  in  making  this  con- 
cession, that  many  have  regarded  it  as  the  origin  of  that  deep 
melancholy  to  which  she  soon  after  fell  a  victim.  The  council 
apprehended,  or  affected  to  apprehend,  that  Tyrone  would  still 
refuse  to  surrender  on  the  hard  conditions  imposed  by  the  queen  ; 
but  so  desperate  was  now  his  situation,  that  without  even  wait- 
ing to  receive  them,  he  had  thrown  himself  at  the  feet  of  the 
deputy  and  submitted  his  lands  and  life  to  the  queen's  mercy. 
Ministers  more  resolute,  or  more  disinterested,  might  therefore 
have  spared  her  the  degradation,  as  she  regarded  it,  of  treating 
with  a  rebel.  The  news  of  his  final  submission,  which  occurred 
four  days  only  before  her  death,  she  never  learned. 

The  closing  scene  of  the  long  and  eventful  life  of  queen  Eliza-* 
beth  is  all  that  now  remains  to  be  described ;  but  that  marked 
peculiarity  of  character  and  of  destiny  which  has  attended  her 
from  the  cradle,  pursues  her  to  the  grave,  and  forbids  us  to  hurry 
over  as  trivial  and  uninteresting  the  melancholy  detail. 

Notwithstanding  the  state  of  bodily  and  mental  indisposition 
in  which  she  was  beheld  by  Harrington  at  the  close  of  the  year 
1602,  the  queen  had  persisted  in  taking  her  usual  exercises  of 
riding  and  hunting,  regardless  of  the  inclemencies  of  the  season. 
One  day  in  January  she  visited  the  lord  admiral,  probably  at 
Chelsea,  and  about  the  same  time  she  removed  to  her  palace  of 
Richmond. 

In  the  beginning  of  March  her  illness  suddenly  increased  ; 
and  it  was  about  this  time  that  her  kinsman  Robert  Cary  arrived 
from  Berwick  to  visit  her.  In  his  own  memoirs  he  has  thus  re- 
lated the  circumstances  which  he  witnessed  on  this  occasion. 

"  When  I  came  to  court  I  found  the  queen  ill-disposed,  and 
she  kept  her  inner  lodging  ;  yet  she,  hearing  of  my  arrival,  senk 
for  me.  I  found  her  in  one  of  her  withdrawing  chambers,  sitting; 
low  upon  her  cushions.  She  called  me  to  her ;  1  kissed  her 
hand,  and  told  her  it  was  my  chiefest  happiness  to  see  her  in 
safety  and  in  health,  which  I  wished  might  long  continue.  She 
took  me  by  the  hand,  and  wrung  it  hard,  and  said,  1  No,  Robin, 
I  am  not  well and  then  discoursed  with  me  of  her  indisposition, 


*  Carte  „ 


508 


THE  COURT  OF 


and  that  her  heart  had  been  sad  and  heavy  for  ten  or  twelve 
days,  and  in  her  discourse  she  fetched  not  so  few  as  forty  or 
fifty  great  sighs.  I  was  grieved  at  the  first  to  see  her  in  this 
plight ;  for  in  all  my  lifetime  I  never  knew  her  fetch  a  sigh,  but 
when  the  queen  of  Scots  was  beheaded.  Then,  upon  my  know- 
ledge, she  shed  many  tears  and  sighs,  manifesting  her  innocence, 
that  she  never  gave  consent  to  the  death  of  that  queen. 

"  I  used  the  best  words  I  could  to  persuade  her  from  this 
melancholy  humour ;  but  I  found  by  her  it  was  too  deep  rooted 
in  her  heart,  and  hardly  to  be  removed.  This  was  upon  a  Satur- 
day night,  and  she  gave  command  that  the  great  closet  should 
be  prepared  for  her  to  go  to  chapel  the  next  morning.  The  next 
day,  all  things  being  in  readiness,  we  long  expected  her  coming. 
After  eleven  o'clock,  one  of  the  grooms  came  out  and  bade  make 
readv  for  the  private  closet,  she  would  not  go  to  the  great. 
There  we  stayed  long  for  her  coming,  but  at  last  she  had  cush- 
ions laid  for  her  in  her  privy-chamber  hard  by  the  closet  door, 
and  there  she  heard  service- 

"  From  that  day  forward  she  grew  worse  and  worse.  She 
remained  upon  her  cushions  four  days  and  nights  at  the  least. 
All  about  her  could  not  persuade  her  either  to  take  any  suste- 
nance or  go  to  bed  The  queen  grew  worse  and 

worse  because  she  would  be  so,  none  about  her  being  able  to  go 
to  bed.  My  lord-admiral  was  sent  for,  (who  by  reason  of  my 
sister's  death,  that  was  his  wife,  had  absented  himself  some  fort- 
night from  court;)  what  by  fair  means  what  by  force,  he  gat  her 
to  bed.  There  was  no  hope  of  her  recovery,  because  she  refused 
all  remedies. 

"  On  Wednesday  the  23d  of  March  she  grew  speechless.  That 
afternoon  by  signs  she  called  for  her  council,  and  by  putting  her 
hand  to  her  head  when  the  king  of  Scots  was  named  to  succeed 
her,  they  all  knew  he  was  the  man  she  desired  should  reign 
after  her. 

"  About  six  at  night  she  made  signs  for  the  archbishop  and  her 
chaplains  to  come  to  her,  at  which  time  I  went  in  with  them  and 
sat  upon  my  knees  full  of  tears  to  see  that  heavy  sight.  Her 
majesty  lay  upon  her  back  with  one  hand  in  the  bed  and  the 
other  without.  The  bishop  kneeled  down  by  her  and  examined 
her  first  of  her  faith ;  and  she  so  punctually  answered  all  his 
several  questions,  by  lifting  up  her  eyes  and  holding  up  her  hand, 
as  it  was  a  comfort  to  all  the  beholders ....  After  he  had  con- 
tinued long  in  prayer,  till  the  old  man's  knees  were  weary,  he 
blessed  her ;  and  meant  to  rise  and  leave  her.  The  queen  made  a 
sign  with  her  hand.  My  sister  Scrope,  knowing  her  meaning,  told 
the  bishop  the  queen  desired  he  would  pray  still.  He  did  so  for 
a  long  half  hour  after,  and  then  thought  to  leave  her.  The  se- 
cond time  she  made  sign  to  have  him  continue  in  prayer.  He 
did  so  for  half  an  hour  more,  with  earnest  cries  to  God  for  her 
soul's  health,  which  he  uttered  with  that  fervency  of  spirit,  as 
the  queen  to  all  our  sight  much  rejoiced  thereat,  and  gave  testi- 
mony to  us  all  of  her  christian  and  comfortable  end.    By  this 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


509 


time  it  grew  late,  and  every  one  departed,  all  but  her  women 

that  attended  her  Between  one  and  two  o'clock  of  the 

Thursday  morning,  he  that  I  left  in  the  cofferer's  chamber  brought 
me  word  that  the  queen  was  dead." 

A  Latin  letter  written  the  day  after  her  death  to  Edmund 
Lambert,  whether  by  one  of  her  physicians  or  not  is  uncertain, 
gives  an  account  of  her  sickness  in  no  respect  contradictory  to 
Robert  Cary's.  tfMP*1"*'  ' 

"  It  was  after  labour^' for  nearly  three  weeks  under  a  morbid 
melancholy,  which  brought  on  stupor  not  unmixed  with  some  in- 
dications of  a  disordered  fancy,  that  the  queen  expired.  During 
all  this  time  she  could  neither  by  reasoning,  entreaties,  or  arti- 
fices be  brought  to  make  trial  of  any  medical  aid,  and  with  diffi- 
culty was  persuaded  to  receive  sufficient  nourishment  to  sustain 
nature  ;  taking  also  very  little  sleep,  and  that  not  in  bed,  but  on 
cushions,  where  she  would  sit  whole  days  motionless  and  sleep- 
less ;  retaining  however  the  vigour  of  her  intellect  to  her  last 
breath,  though  deprived  for  three  days  before  her  death  of  the 
power  of  speech." 

Another  contemporary  writes  to  his  friend  thus  .  .  .  .  "  No 
doubt  you  shall  hear  her  majesty's  sickness  and  manner  of  death 
diversly  reported  ;  for  even  here  the  papists  do  tell  strange  sto- 
ries, as  utterly  void  of  truth  as  of  all  civil  honesty  or  humanity 
...  Here  was  some  whispering  that  her  brain  was  somewhat 
distempered,  but  there  was  no  such  matter;  only  she  held  an 
obstinate  silence  for  the  most  part ;  and,  because  she  had  a  per- 
suasion that  if  she  once  lay  down  she  should  never  rise,  could 
not  be  got  to  go  to  bed  in  a  whole  week,  till  three  days  before 
her  death  ....  She  made  no  will,  neither  gave  any  thing  away; 
so  that  they  which  come  after  shall  find  a  well -furnished  jewel- 
house  and  a  rich  wardrobe  of  more  than  two  thousand  gowns, 
with  all  things  else  answerable."* 

That  a  profound  melancholy  was  either  the  cause,  or  at  least 
a  leading  symptom,  of  the  last  illness  of  the  queen  so  many  con- 
curring testimonies  render  indisputable  ;  but  the  origin  of  this 
affection  has  been  variously  explained.  Some,  as  we  have  seen, 
ascribed  it  to  her  chagrin  on  being  in  a  manner  compelled  to 
grant  the  pardon  of  Tyrone  ; — a  cause  disproportioned  surely  to 
the  effect.  Others  have  imagined  it  to  arise  from  grief  and  in- 
dignation at  the  neglect  which  she  began  to  experience  from  the 
venal  throng  of  courtiers,  who  were  hastening  to  pay  timely 
homage  to  her  successor.  By  others,  again,  her  dejection  has 
been  regarded  as  nothing  more  than  a  natural  concomitant  of 
bodily  decay  ;  a  physical  rather  than  a  mental  malady.  But  the 
prevalent  opinion,  even  at  the  time,  appears  to  have  been,  that 
the  grief  or  compunction  for  the  death  of  Essex,  with  which  she 
had  long  maintained  a  secret  struggle,  broke  forth  in  the  end 
superior  to  control,  and  rapidly  completed  the  overthrow  of 
powers  which  the  advances  of  old  age  and  an  accumulation  of 


Printed  iu  Nichols's  Progresses. 


THE  COURT  OF 


cares  and  anxieties  had  already  undermined.  "  Our  queen,'* 
writes  an  English  correspondent  to  a  Scotch  nobleman  in  the 
service  of  James,  "  is  troubled  with  a  rheum  in  her  arm,  which 
vexeth  her  very  much,  besides  the  grief  she  hath  conceived  for 
my  lord  of  Essex's  death.  She  sleepeth  not  so  much  by  day  as 
she  used,  neither  taketh  rest  by  night.  Her  delight  is  to  sit  in 
the  dark,  and  sometimes,  with  shedding  tears,  to  bewail  Essex." 

A  remarkable  anecdote  first  puplishedun  Osborn's  Traditional 
Memoirs  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  coiffirmed  by  M.  Maurier's 
Memoirs, — where  it  is  given  on  the  authority  of  sir  Dudley 
Carlton  the  English  ambassador  in  Holland,  who  related  it  to 
Prince  Maurice, — offers  the  solution  of  these  doubts.  According 
to  this  story,  the  countess  of  Nottingham,  who  was  a  relation, 
but  no  friend,  of  the  earl  of  Essex,  being  on  her  death-bed,  en- 
treated to  see  the  queen  ;  declaring  that  she  had  something  to 
confess  to  her  before  she  could  die  in  peace.  On  her  majesty's 
arrival,  the  countess  produced  a  ring,  which  she  said  the  earl  of 
Essex  had  sent  to  her  after  his  condemnation,  with  an  earnest 
request  that  she  would  deliver  it  to  the  queen,  as  the  token  by 
which  he  implored  her  mercy ;  but  which,  in  obedience  to  her 
husband,  to  whom  she  had  communicated  the  circumstance,  she 
had  hitherto  withheld  ;  for  which  she  entreated  the  queen's  for- 
giveness. On  sight  of  the  ring,  Elizabeth  instantly  recognised 
it  as  one  which  she  had  herself  presented  to  her  unhappy  fa- 
vourite on  his  departure  for  Cadiz,  with  the  tender  promise,  that 
of  whatsoever  crimes  his  enemies  might  have  accused  him,  or 
whatsoever  offences  he  might  actually  have  committed  against 
her,  on  his  returning  to  her  that  pledge,  she  would  either  pardon 
him,  or  admit  him  at  least  to  justify  himself  in  her  presence. 
Transported  at  once  with  grief  and  rage,  on  learning  the  barba- 
rous infidelity  of  which  the  earl  had  been  the  victim  and  herself 
the  dupe,  the  queen  shook  in  her  bed  the  dying  countess,  and 
vehemently  exclaiming,  that  God  might  forgive  her,  but  she  never 
could,  flung  out  of  the  chamber. 

Returning  to  her  palace,  she  surrendered  herself  without  re- 
sistance to  the  despair  which  seized  her  heart  on  this  fatal  and 
too  late  disclosure. — Hence  her  refusal  of  medicine  and  almost 
of  food ; — hence  her  obstinate  silence  interrupted  only  by  sighs, 
groans,  and  broken  hints  of  a  deep  sorrow  which  she  cared  not 
to  reveal ; — hence  the  days  and  nights  passed  by  her  seated  on 
the  floor,  sleepless,  her  eyes  fixed  and  her  finger  pressed  upon 
her  mouth  ; — hence,  in  shortfall  those  heart-rending  symptoms 
of  incurable  and  mortal  anguish  which  conducted  her,  in  the 
space  of  twenty  days,  to  the  lamentable  termination  of  a  long 
life  of  power,  prosperity  and  glory.* 

*  See  the  evidence  for  this  extraordinary  story  fully  stated  in  Birch's  Negotia- 
tions.   On  the  whole,  it  appears  sufficient  to  warrant  our  belief ;  yet  it  should  be 
remarked  that  the  accounts  which  have  come  down  to  us  differ  from  each  other  in  • 
some  important  points,  and  are  traceable  to  no  original  witness  of  the  interview  be- 
tween the  queen  and  the  countess. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


511 


The  queen  expired  on  March  24th,  1603. 

After  the  minute  and  extended  survey  of  the  life  and  action* 
of  Elizabeth,  which  has  made  the  principal  business  of  these 
pages,  it  would  be  a  trespass  alike  on  the  patience  and  the  judg- 
ment of  the  reader  to  detain  him  with  a  formal  review  of  her 
character  ; — let  it  suffice  to  complete  the  portrait  by  a  few  ad- 
ditional touches. 

The  ceremonial  of  her  court  rivalled  the  servility  »,f  the  East ; 
no  person  of  whatever  rank  ventured  to  address  her  otherwise 
than  kneeling  ;  and  this  attitude  was  preserved  by  all  her  minis- 
ters during  their  audiences  of  business,  with  the  exception  of 
Burleigh, in  whose  favour,  when  aged  and  infirm,  she  dispensed 
with  its  observance.  Hentzner,  a  German  traveller  who  visited 
England  near  the  conclusion  of  her  reign,  relates,  /that  as  she 
passed  through  several  apartments  from  the  chapel  to  dinner, 
wherever  she  turned  her  eyes  he  observed  the  spectators  throw 
themselves  on  their  knees.  The  same  traveller  further  relates, 
that  the  officers  and  ladies,  whose  business  it  was  to  arrange  the 
dishes  and  give  tastes  of  them  to  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  by 
v/hom  they  were  brought  in,  did  not  presume  to  approach  the 
royal  table,  w  ithout  repeated  prostrations  and  genuflexions  and 
every  mark  of  reverence  due  to  her  majesty  in  person. 

The  appropriation  of  her  time  and  the  arrangements  of  her 
domestic  life  present  more  favourable  traits. 

"  First  in  the  morning  she  spent  some  time  at  her  devotions; 
then  she  betook  herself  to  the  dispatch  of  her  civil  affairs,  reacf- 
ing  letters,  ordering  answers,  considering  what  should  be  brought 
.before  the  council,  and  consulting  with  her  ministers.  When 
she  had  thus  wearied  herself,  she  would  walk  in  a  shady  garden 
or  pleasant  gallery,  without  any  other  attendance  than  that  of  a 
few  learned  men.  Then  she  took  her  coach  and  passed  in  the 
sight  of  her  people  to  the  neighbouring  groves  and  fields,  and 
sometimes  would  hunt  or  hawk.  There  was  scarce  a  day  but 
she  employed  some  part  of  it  in  reading  and  study  ;  sometimes 
before  she  entered  upon  her  state  affairs,  sometimes  after  them."* 

She  slept  little,  seldom  drank  wine,  was  sparing  in  her  diet, 
and  a  religious  observer  of  the  fasts.  She  sometimes  dined 
alone,  but  more  commonly  had  with  her  some  of  her  friends. 
"  At  supper  she  would  divert  herself  with  her  friends  and  at- 
tendants, and  if  they  made  her  no  answer,  would  put  them  upon 
mirth  and  pleasant  discourse  with  great  civility.  She  would 
then  also  admit  Tarleton,  a  famous  comedian  and  pleasant  talker, 
and  other  such  men,  to  divert  her  with  stories  of  the  town  and 
the  common  jests  and  accidents." 

"  She  would  recreate  herself  with  a  game  of  chess,  dancing 

or  singing  She  would  often  play  at  cards  and  tables,  and 

if  at  any  time  she  happened  to  win,  she  would  be  sure  to  de» 


*  Bohun's  character  of  queen  Elizabeth. 


512 


THE  COURT  OF 


mand  the  money  She  was  waited  on  in  her  bedchamber 

by  married  ladies  of  the  nobility;  the  marchioness  of  Winches- 
ter, widow,  lady  Warwick,  and  lady  Scrope :  and  here  she  would 
seldom  suffer  any  to  wait  upon  her  but  Leicester,  Hatton,  Es- 
sex, Nottingham,  and  Raleigh  Some  lady  always  slept 

in  her  chamber ;  and  besides  her  guards,  there  was  always  a 
gentleman  of  good  quality  and  some  others  up  in  the  next  cham- 
ber, to  wake  her  if  any  thing  extraordinary  happened."* 

"  She  loved  a  prudent  and  moderate  habit  in  her  private  apart- 
ment and  conversation  with  her  own  servants  ;  but  when  she 
appeared  in  public  she  was  ever  richly  adorned  with  the  most 
valuable  clothes  ;  setoff  again  with  much  gold  and  jewels  of  in- 
estimable value  ;  and  on  such  occasion  she  ever  wore  high  shoes, 
that  she  might  seem  taller  than  indeed  she  was.  The  first  day 
of  the  parliament  she  would  appear  in  a  robe  embroidered  with 
pearls,  the  royal  crown  on  her  head,  the  golden  ball  in  her  left 
hand  and  the  sceptre  in  her  right ;  and  as  she  never  failed  then 
of  the  loud  acclamations  of  her  people,  so  she  was  ever  pleased 
with  it,  and  went  along  in  a  kind  of  triumph  with  all  the  ensigns 
of  majesty.  The  royal  name  was  ever  venerable  to  the  English 
people ;  but  this  queen's  name  was  more  sacred  than  any  of  her 

ancestors  In  the  furniture  of  her  palaces  she  ever  affected 

magnificence  and  an  extraordinary  splendour.  She  adorned  the 
galleries  with  pictures  by  the  best  artists  ;  the  walls  she  covered 
with  rich  tapestries.  She  was  a  true  lover  of  jewels,  pearls,  all 
sorts  of  precious  stones,  gold  and  silver  plate,  rich  beds,  fine 
couches  and  chariots,  Persian  and  Indian  carpets,  statues,  me- 
dals, &c.  which  she  would  purchase  at  great  prices.  Hampton- 
court  was  the  most  richly  furnished  of  all  her  palaces :  and  here 
she  had  caused  her  naval  victories  against  the  Spaniards  to  be 
worked  in  fine  tapestries  and  laid  up  among  the  richest  pieces 

of  her  wardrobe  When  she  made  any  public  feasts,  her 

tables  were  magnificently  served  and  many  side-tables  adorned 
with  rich  plate.  At  these  times  many  of  the  nobility  waited  on 
her  at  table.  She  made  the  greatest  displays  of  her  regal  mag- 
nificence when  foreign  ambassadors  were  present.  At  these 
times  she  would  also  have  vocal  and  instrumental  music  during 
dinner  ;  and  after  dinner,  dancing."t 

The  queen  was  laudably  watchful  over  the  morals  of  her  court ; 
and  not  content  with  dismissing  from  her  service,  or  banishing 
her  presence,  such  of  her  female  attendants  as  were  found  offend- 
ing against  the  laws  of  chastity,  she  was  equitable  enough  to 
visit  with  marks  of  her  displeasure  the  libertinism  of  the  other 
sex  ;  and  in  several  instances  she  deferred  the  promotion  of 
otherwise  deserving  young  men  till  she  saw  them  reform  their 
manners  in  this  respect.  Europe  had  assuredly  never  beheld  a 
court  so  decent,  so  learned,  or  so  accomplished  as  hers ;  and  it 
will  not  be  foreign  from  the  purpose  of  illustrating  more  fully 


Bohun's  Character  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 


|  Ibid. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


513 


the  character  of  the  sovereign,  to  borrow  from  a  contemporary 
writer  a  few  particulars  on  this  head. 

V  It  was  rare  to  find  a  courtier  acquainted  with  no  language 
but  his  own.  The  ladies  studied  Latin,  Greek,  Spanish,  Italian, 
and  French.  The  "more  ancient"  among  them  exercised  them- 
selves some  with  the  needle,  some  with  "  caul  work"  (probably 
netting)  "  divers  in  spinning  silk,  some  in  continual  reading 
either  of  the  Scriptures  or  of  histories  oithex  of  their  own  or  fo 
reign  countries ;  divers  in  writing  volumes  of  their  own,  or  trans- 
lating the  works  of  others  into  Latin  or  English  ;''  while  the 
younger  ones  in  the  mean  time  applied  to  their  "  lutes,  citharnes, 
pricksong  and  all  kinds  of  music."  Many  of  the  elder  sort 
were  also  "  skilful  in  surgery  and  distillation  of  waters,  beside 
sundry  artificial  practices  pertaining  to  the  ornature  and  com- 
mendations of  their  bodies."  "  This,"  adds  our  author,  "  I 
will  generally  say  of  them  all ;  that  as  each  of  them  are  cunning 
in  something;  whereby  they  keep  themselves  occupied  in  the 
court,  there  is  in  manner  none  of  them  but  when  they  be  at  home 
can  help  to  supply  the  ordinary  Want  of  the  kitchen  with  a  num- 
ber of  delicate  dishes  of  their  own  devising,  wherein  the  porthi- 
gal  is  their  chief  counsellor,  as  some  of  them  are  most  com- 
monly with  the  clerk  of  the  kitchen,"  &c. 

"  Every  office,"  at  court,  had  "  either  a  Bible  or  the  book  of 
the  Acts  and  Monuments  of  the  Church  of  England,  or  both, 
besides  some  histories  and  chronicles  lying  therein,  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  such  as  come  into  the  same."* 

Such  was  the  scene  over  which  Elizabeth  presided  ; — such  the 
companions  whom  she  formed  to  herself,  and  in  whom  she  de- 
lighted !  The  new  men  and  new  manners  brought  in  by  James 
I.  served  more  fully  to  instruct  the  nation  in  the  value  of  all 
that  it  had  enjoyed  under  his  illustrious  predecessor,  the  vigour 
which  had  rendered  her  government  respectable  abroad  ;  and  the 
wise  and  virtuous  moderation  which  caused  it  to  be  loved  at 
home,  were  now  recalled  with  that  sense  of  irreparable  loss  which 
exalts  to  enthusiasm  the  sentiment  of  veneration  and  the  prin- 
ciple of  gratitude ;  and  almost  in  the  same  proportion  as  the 
sanguinary  bigotry  of  her  predecessor  had  occasioned  her  acces- 
sion to  be  desired,  the  despicable  weakness  of  her  successor 
caused  her  decease  to  be  regretted  and  deplored. 

It  was  on  the  tenth  anniversary  of  the  proclamation  of  king 
James  that  the  eloquent  Hall,  in  his  sermon  at  Paul's  Cross, 
gave  utterance  to  the  general  sentiment  in  the  following  ani- 
mated apostrophe  to  the  manes  of  the  departed  sovereign  : 

"  0  blessed  queen  !  the  mother  of  this  nation,  the  nurse  of  this 
church,  the  glory  of  womanhood,  the  envy  and  example  of  fo- 
reign nations,  the  wonder  of  times,  how  sweet  and  sacred  shall 
thy  memory  be  to  all  posterity  ! — How  excellent  were  her  mas- 
culine graces  of  learning,  valour  and  wisdom,  by  which  she  might 
justly  challenge  to  be  the  queen  of  men  !    So  learned  was  sne, 


*  Description  of  England  prefixed  to  Holinshed's  Chronicles. 
3  T 


514 


THE  COURT  OF 


that  she  could  give  present  answer  to  ambassadors  in  their  own 
tongues  :  so  valiant,  that  like  Zisca's  drum  made  the  proudest 
Romanist  to  quake ;  so  wise,  that  whosoever  fell  out  happily 
against  the  common  adversary  in  France,  Netherland,  Ireland, 
it  was  by  themselves  ascribed  to  her  policy. 

"  Why  should  I  speak  of  her  long  and  successful  government, 
of  her  miraculous  preservations  ;  of  her  famous  victories,  wherein 
the  w  aters,  w  ind,  fire  and  earth  fought  for  us,  as  if  they  had  been 
in  pay  under  her  ;  of  her  excellent  laws  and  careful  execution  ? 
Many  daughters  have  done  worthily,  but  thou  surmountedest 
them  all.  Such  was  the  sweetness  of  her  government  and  such 
the  fear  of  misery  in  her  loss,  that  many  worthy  christians  de- 
sired that  their  eyes  might  be  closed  before  hers  Every 

one  pointed  to  her  white  hairs,  and  said,  with  that  peaceable 
Leontius,  "  When  this  snow  melteth  there  will  be  a  flood." 


In  the  progress  of  the  preceding  work,  I  have  inserted  some 
incidental  notices  respecting  the  domestic  architecture  of  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth :  but  becoming  gradually  sensible  of  the  in- 
teresting details  of  which  the  subject  was  susceptible  and  en- 
tirely aware  of  my  own  inability  to  do  it  justice,  I  solicited,  and 
esteem  myself  fortunate  in  having  procured,  the  following  re- 
marks from  the  pen  of  a  brother  who  makes  this  noble  art  at 
once  his  profession  aud  his  delight. 


ON  THE 


DOMESTIC  ARCHITECTURE 

OF 

THE  REIGN  OF  ELIZABETH. 


During  the  period  of  English  history  included  in  our  present 
survey,  the  nobility  continued  for  the  most  part  to  inhabit  their 
ancient  castles ;  edifices  which,  originally  adapted  by  strength 
of  situation  and  construction  merely  to  defence,  were  now  in 
many  instances,  by  the  alteration  of  the  original  buildings  and 
by  the  accession  of  additional  ones,  become  splendid  palaces. 
Among  these  it  may  be  sufficient  to  mention  Kennelworth,  re- 
nowned for  gorgeous  festivities,  where  the  earl  of  Leicester  was 
reported  to  nave  expended  60,000  pounds  in  buildings. 

Some  curious  notices  of  the  habitations  of  the  time  are  pre- 
served in  Leland's  Itinerary,  written  about  1535,  as  in  the  fol- 
lowing description  of  Wresehill -castle  near  Howden  in  York- 
shire : — ( Most  part  of  the  base  court  is  of  timber.  The  castle  is 
moated  about  on  three  parts;  the  fourth  part  is  dry,  where  the 
entry  is  into  the  castle.  Five  towers,  one  at  each  corner ;  the 
gateway  is  the  fifth,  having  five  lodgings  in  height ;  three  of  the 
other  towers  have  four  lodgings  in  height ;  the  fourth  containeth 
the  buttery,  pantry,  pastry,  lardery,  and  kitchen.  In  one  of  the- 
towers  a  study  called  Paradise,  where  was  a  closet  in  the  mid- 
dle of  eight  squares  latticed  ;  about  and  at  the  top  of  every 
square  was  a  desk  lodged  to  set  books  on,  &c.  The  garde  robe 
in  the  castle  was  exceeding  fair,  and  so  were  the  gardens  within 
the  mote,  and  the  orchards  without ;  and  in  the  orchards  were 
mounts  opere  topiario  writhen  about  with  degrees  like  turnings 
of  a  cockle-shell,  to  come  to  top  without  pain.' 

These  castles,  though  converted  into  dwellings  of  some  con- 
venience and  magnificence,  still  retained  formidable  strength, 
which  was  proved  in  the  following  century,  when  so  many  of 
them  sustained  sieges  for  the  king  or  parliament  and  were  finally 
dilapidated. 

Besides  the  regularly  fortified  castles,  there  were  many  man- 
sion-houses of  inferior  importance,  which,  though  not  capable  of 
resisting  a  regular  siege,  were  strengthened  against  a  tumultu- 
ous or  hasty  invasion.  These  houses  generally  formed  a  square 
of  building  enclosing  a  court  and  surrounded  by  a  moat.  A  draw- 
bridge formed  the  only  access,  which  was  protected  by  an  em- 
battled gatehouse.  One  side  of  the  square  was  principally  occu- 
pied by  a  great  hall ;  and  the  offices  and  lodgings  were  distri- 
buted on  the  other  sides.  Oxburgh-hall  in  Norfolk  and  Layer 
Marney  in  Essex  are  fine  examples  of  these  houses.  They  were 
frequently*of  timber,  as  Moreton-hall  in  Cheshire,  Speke-hall 
near  Liverpool.  Leland  describes  Morley-house  near  Manches- 
ter as  *  builded, — saving  the  foundation  of  stone  squared  that 
riseth  within,  a  great  mote  a  six  foot  above  the  water, — all  of  tim- 


516 


ber,  after  the  common  sort  of  building  of  the  gentlemen  for  most 
of  Lancashire.'  Sometimes  a  strong  tower  was  added  at  one 
corner  as  a  citadel,  which  might  be  maintained  when  the  rest  of 
the  house  was  destroyed.  This  is  the  case  with  the  curious  house 
of  Stoke  Say  in  Shropshire,  where  the  situation  near  the  Welsh 
border  might  render  such  an  additional  security  desirable. 

Thus  the  forms  of  ancient  fortification  were  continued  awhile 
rather  from  habit  or  ostentation  than  from  any  more  important 
motives  ;  but  in  the  new  buildings  erected  during  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth  and  her  successor  the  were  finally  laid  aside.  In  some 
stately  houses,  though  the  show  of  strength  was  discontinued, 
the  general  form  remained  however  the  same.  The  circuit  of 
building  was  entire,  and  enclosed  one  or  more  courts  ;  a  gateway 
formed  the  entrance,  and  the  great  hall  was  placed  at  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  first  court.  Such  was  Audley  End,  in  its  original 
state  one  of  the  largest  and  most  sumptuous  houses  in  the  king- 
dom. In  other  instances  the  house  assumes  the  half  H  shape, 
with  the  offices  placed  in  the  wings  ;  and  the  circuit  is  only 
completed  by  terraces  and  low  walls ;  the  gatehouse  remains 
as  a  detached  lodge,  or  is  entirely  omitted  :  examples  of  this 
form  are  numerous ;  as  Holland-house  at  Kensington,  Oxnead 
and  Blickling  halls  in  Norfolk,  Beaudesert  and  Wimbledon  - 
house,  built  by  sir  Thomas  Cecil  in  1588,  remarkable  for  a  great 
ascent  of  steps  and  terraces  disposed  in  a  manner  resembling 
some  Italian  villas.  In  others  the  offices  are  detached  in  sepa- 
rate masses,  or  concealed,  or  placed  in  a  basement  story ;  and 
only  the  body  of  the  house  remains,  either  as  a  solid  mass  or 
enclosing  small  courts :  this  disposition  does  not  differ  from  the 
most  modern  arrangements.  Of  these  houses  Longleat  in  Wilt- 
shire and  Wollaton  near  Nottingham  are  fine  examples.* 

The  distribution  of  domestic  buildings  is  well  illustrated  in 
the  survey  of  Theobald's  taken  by  the  Parliament's  Commis- 
sioners in  1650.t  This  mansion  was  built  by  lord  Burleigh  about 
1560:  it  afterwards  became  a  favourite  residence  of  James  I. 
who  received  it  from  lord  Salisbury  in  exchange  for  the  manor 
and  palace  of  Hatfield.  The  survey  contains  a  very  minute  and 
accurate  description  of  Theobald's  palace,  from  which  the  fol- 
lowing account  is  given  partly  in  the  words  of  the  old  surveyors. 
— It  consisted  of  two  principal  quadrangles  besides  the  dial 
court,  the  buttery  court,  and  the  dove-house  court,  in  which  the 
offices  were  situated.  The  fountain  court  was"  a  square  of  86 
feet,  on  the  east  side  of  which,  was  a  cloister  of  seven  arches. 
On  the  ground  floor  of  this  quadrangle  was  a  spacious  hall ;  the 
roof  of  which  was  arched  with  carved  timber  of  curious  work- 
manship. On  the  same  floor  were  the  lord  Holland's,  the  mar- 
quis of  Hamilton's,  and  lord  Salisbury's  apartments,  the  coun- 
cil chamber  and  waiting  room.  On  the  second  floor  was  the  pre 
sence  chamber,  finished  with  carved  oak  wainscoting  and  a  ceil- 
ing full  of  gilded  pendants.  Also  the  privy  chamber^ the  with- 
drawing room,  the  king's  bedchamber,  and  a  gallery  123  feet 

*  Views  of  most  of  the  buildings  here  mentioned  may  be  found  in  Brilton's  Aicht 
sectoral  Antiquities,  vols.  i.  ii.  and  iv. 
t  L)  son's  Environs  of  London,  vol.  iv. 


517 


loug,  f.  wainscoted  with  oak,  and  paintings  over  the  same  of  divers 
cities,  rarely  painted  and  set  forth  with  a  fret  ceiling,  with  divers 
pendants,  roses  and  flower-de-luces ;  also  divers  large  stags 
Leads,  which  were  an  excellent  ornament  to  the  same.'  On  the 
upper  floor,  were  the  lord  chamberlain's  lodgings  and  several 
other  apartments,  with  terrace  walks  on  the  leads.  At  each 
corner  stood  a  high  and  fair  tower,  ami  over  the  hall  in  the  mid 
die  '  a  large  and  fair  turret  in  the  fashion  of  a  lantern,  curiously 
wrought  with  divers  pinnacles  at  each  corner,  wherein  hangeth 
twelve  bells  for  chiming  and  a  clock  with  chimes  and  sundrj 
work.'  The  middle  court  was  a  quadrangle  ot  110  feet  square, 
on  the  south  side  of  which  were  the  queen's  chapel,  presence 
chamber,  and  other  apartments.  The  prince's  lodgings  were  on 
the  north  side  ;  on  the  east  side  was  a  cloister,  over  which  was 
the  green  gallery,  109  feet  by  12  feet,  *  excellently  well  painted 
with  the  several  shires  in  England  and  the  arms  of  the  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  in  the  same.'  Over  the  gallery  was  a  leaded 
walk,  on  which  were  two  lofty  arches  of  brick,  '  of  no  small  orna- 
ment to  the  house,  and  rendering  it  comely  and  pleasant  to  all 
that  passed  by.'  On  the  west  side  of  the  quadrangle  was  another 
cloister,  on  five  arches,  over  which  were  the  duke's  lodgings  and 
over  them  the  queen's  gallery.  On  the  south  side  of  the  house 
stood  a  large  open  cloister,  built  upon  several  large  fair  pillars, 
arched  over  '  with  a  fair  rail  and  ballustres  ;  well  painted  with 
the  kings  and  queens  of  England  and  the  pedigree  of  the  old 
lord  Burleigh  and  divers  other  ancient  families  ;  with  paintings' 
of  many  castles  and  battles.'  The  gardens  at  Theobald's  were 
large,  and  ornamented  with  labyrinths,  canals  and  fountains. 
The  great  garden  contained  seven  acres ;  besides  which  there 
were  the  pheasant  garden,  privy  garden,  and  laundry  garden. 
In  the  former  were  nine  knots  artificially  and  exquisitely  made, 
one  of  which  was  set  forth  in  likeness  of  the  king's  arms.  This 
description,  and  Bacon's  idea  of  a  palace  in  his  45th  Essay,  with 
their  numerous  cloisters,  galleries  and  turrets,  are  well  illustra- 
ted by  the  plan  of  Audley  End,  in  its  original  state,  given  in 
Britton's  Architectural  Antiquities,  vol.  ii. 

The  houses  erected  during  the  sixteenth  and  the  early  partoi 
the  seventeenth  century  were  frequently  of  magnificent  dimen- 
sions, picturesque  from  the  varied  lines  and  projections  of  the 
plan  and  elevation,  and  rich  by  the  multiplicity  of  parts;  but 
they  had  lost  all  beauty  of  detail.  The  builders,  having  aban- 
doned the  familiar  and  long  practised  Gothic  style,  were  now  to 
serve  their  apprenticeship  in  Grecian  architecture :  '  stately 
Doricke  and  neat  Ionicke  work'  were  introduced  as  fashionable 
novelties,  employed  first  in  the  porches  and  frontispieces  and 
gradually  extended  over  the  whole  fronts  of  buildings.  Among 
the  Architects  employed  at  this  period,  some  foreign  names  oc- 
cur. Holbein  was  much  favoured  by  Henry  VIII.,  and  gave  va- 
rious designs  for  buildings  at  the  old  palaces  of  Whitehall  and 
St.  James.  John  of  Padua  had  a  salary  as  deviser  of  his  majes- 
ty's buildings,  and  was  employed  to  build  the  palace  of  the  pro- 
tector Somerset.  Jerome  de  Trevisi  is  also  mentioned  ;  and  it 
js  said  that  the  designs  for  Longleat  and  a  model  of  Audley  End 


518 


were  obtained  from  Italy.  The  last  circumstance  is  altogether 
extraordinary;  this  was  the  very  best  period  of  Italian  architec- 
ture, and  it  seems  highly  improbable  that  semi-barbarous  designs 
should  proceed  from  the  country  of  Palladio  and  Vignola. 
Thorpe,  Smithson,  and  other  Englishmen,  were  also  eminent 
builders  ;  and  probably  these  persons  might  have  travelled,  and 
thus  have  gained  the  imperfect  knowledge  of  Grecian  architec- 
ture which  appears  in  their  works.  They  were  immediately 
followed  by  Inigo  Jones,  who  formed  his  style  particularly  on 
the  works  of  Palladio,  and  became  the  founder  of  classic  archi- 
tecture in  this  country. 

There  is  a  remarkable  and  beautiful  analogy  between  the  pro- 
gress of  Grecian  and  Gothic  architecture,  in  both  of  which  we 
find,  that  while  the  powers  of  decoration  were  extended,  the 
process  of  construction  was  improved  and  simplified.    Thus  the 
Doric,  the  primitive  order,  is  full  of  difficulties  in  its  arrange- 
ment, which  render  it  only  applicable  to  simple  plans  and  to 
buildings  where  the  internal  distribution  is  of  inferior  conse- 
quence. The  Ionic,  though  more  ornamental,  is  by  the  suppres- 
sion of  the  divisions  in  the  frieze  so  simplified  as  to  be  readily 
applicable  to  more  complicated  arrangements :  still  the  capital 
presents  difficulties  from  the  dissimilarity  of  the  front  and  sides; 
which  objection  is  finally  obviated  by  the  introduction  of  that 
rich  and  exquisite  composition,  the  Corinthian  capital.    Thus  is 
obtained  an  order  of  the  most  elegant  and  ornamental  character, 
but  possessing  a  happy  simplicity  and  regularity  of  composition 
which  renders  it  more  easy  of  application  than  any  other.  In 
like  manner  in  the  later,  which  has  been  called  the  florid  style 
of  Gothic  architecture,  there  are  buildings  astonishingly  rich 
and  elaborate ;  but  we  find  this  excess  of  ornament  supported 
and  rendered  practicable  by  a  principle  of  simplicity  in  design 
and  construction.    In  the  earlier  and  middle  styles  of  Gothic 
there  are  various  difficulties  of  execution  and  some  faults  of 
composition:  such  as  the  slender  detached  shafts,  the  richly 
carved  capitals,  the  flowing  and  varied  tracery  of  windows,  and 
that  profuse  variety  in  detail  which  frequently  causes  all  the 
windows,  capitals,  buttresses  and  pinnacles  of  the  same  build- 
ings to  differ  from  one  another.    But  the  later  style  has  more 
uniformity  in  corresponding  parts ;  the  capitals  are  very  gene- 
rally composed  of  plain  mouldings,  and  the  divisions  of  the 
windows  consist  chiefly  of  horizontal  and  perpendicular  lines, 
with  few  of  the  beautiful  and  difficult  combinations  of  curves 
which  are  found  in  the  preceding  style.    The  general  principle 
of  decoration  is  to  leave  no  plain  surface,  but  to  divide  the  whole 
into  a  series  of  pannelling;  by  which  is  produced  an  extraordi- 
nary richness  of  effect,  though  the  parts,  when  examined  sepa- 
rately, are  generally  of  simple  forms,  and  such  as  will  admit  of 
an  easy  and  mechanical  execution.    The  introduction  of  the 
four-centered  arch  enlarged  the  powers  of  design,  enabled  ar- 
chitects in  many  instances  to  proportion  better  the  vault  to  the 
upright,  and  even  to  introduce  vaults  where  they  would  have 
been  inapplicable  in  the  former  style,  on  account  of  the  want  of 
elevation  in  rooms ;  as  in  the  divinity  school  at  Oxford.  With- 


519 


out  concurring  in  the  ignorant  wonder  which  has  raised  the 
vaulted  ceilings  of  this  style  to  the  rank  of  mysteries,  we  may 
admire  the  ingenuity  which  has  rendered  real  simplicity  of  con- 
struction the  foundation  of  beautiful  forms  and  of  the  most  ela- 
borate decoration.  The  most  celebrated  examples  of  this  style 
are  so  highly  finished,  so  exuberant  in  ornament,  that  the  term 
%/Jorid\ms  been  applied  as  a  characteristic  epithet  for  the  style; 
but  there  are  many  instances  of  very  simple  and  unornamented 
buildings  of  the  same  period  agreeing  in  all  the  essential  princi- 
ples of  construction  and  design  ;  and  a  late  writer  has  with 
more  propriety  adopted  the  term  perpendicular  for  this  mode  of 
architecture.  This  later  Gothic,  easy  of  construction  and  pos- 
sessing a  variety  of  character  applicable  to  every  kind  of  build- 
ing, is  well  adapted  for  modern  imitation. 

But  the  power  of  mutability  was  at  work,  and  Gothic  archi- 
tecture was  doomed  to  fall.  The  first  step  towards  its  decline 
was  pursuing  to  excess  the  principle  of  simplification  and  re- 
trenching the  most  essential  ornaments.  The  large  windows  of 
houses  were  merely  divided  by  horizontal  and  upright  bars,  and, 
deprived  of  tracery  and  feathering,  were  as  void  of  beauty  in  the 
details  as  in  the  general  proportions;  buttresses  and  battlements 
were  generally  omitted.  A  great  deterioration  took  place  in  the 
decorative  part;  the  ornamental  pannels  and  friezes  of  the 
Gothic  style,  consisting  of  geometrical  combinations  of  circles 
and  straight  lines,  had  always  a  distinct  outline  and  a  sharpness 
of  effect  which  contrasted  agreeably  with  the  foliage  so  often  in- 
termixed ;  but  these  were  succeeded  by  strange  grotesque  com- 
binations, confused,  and  void  of  outline  and  regularity.  The 
source  of  ornament  was  now  sought  in  the  orders  and  members 
of  Grecian  architecture  ;  but  the  eyes  which  had  been  accustom- 
ed to  the  Gothic  flutter  of  parts,  were  not  prepared  to  relish  the 
simplicity  of  line  which  is  essential  to  the  beauty  of  the  Greek 
style.  Columns  of  a  small  size,  inaccurately  and  coarsely  exe- 
cuted, with  arcades  and  grotesque  caryatids,  formed  the  orna- 
ments of  porches  and  frontispieces, — as  at  Browseholme-house 
in  Yorkshire,  Wimbledon,  and  the  Schools-tower  at  Oxford, — 
or  were  spread  over  the  whole  front,  and  formed  the  cloisters 
and  galleries  in  which  those  ancient  mansions  abounded ;  as  at 
Holland -house,  Longleat,  Wollaton,  Audley  End,  Longford - 
castle,  &c.  The  roofs  were  either  faced  with  notched  and  curved 
gables,  or  screened  by  parapets  of  ballustres  or  latticed  work, 
and  decorated  with  obelisks  and  columnar  chimney  shafts ; 
while  turrets  and  pavilions  broke  the  line  of  elevation.  The 
windows  were  very  large,  and  frequently  bowed :  thus  Bacon 
remarks,  in  the  Essay  before  referred  to,  that  f  you  shall  have 
sometimes  fair  houses  so  full  of  glass  that  one  cannot  tell  where 
to  become  to  be  out  of  the  sun  or  cold.*  In  wooden  houses,  and 
particularly  town  houses,  the  upper  stories  generally  projected 
beyond  the  lower,  with  windows  extremely  wide,  so  as  to  occupy 
almost  the  whole  line  of  front.  The  timbers  were  frequently 
left  bare,  carved  and  disposed  in  forms  of  pannelling;  while 
the  various  projections  were  supported  by  grotesque  figures. 
Very  curious  houses  of  this  character  are  still  found  in  several 


520 

old  towns,  a3  Chester,  Shrewsbury,  Coventry,  and  the  obscure 
parts  of  London  ;  though  natural  decay,  fire  and  modern  im- 
provements, are  continually  diminishing  their  number.  Among 
interior  decorations,  chimney-pieces  were  very  conspicuous : 
they  were  miniature  frontispieces,  consisting,  like  the  porches 
of  the  houses,  of  a  mass  of  columns,  arches,  niches  and  carya 
tids,  piled  up  to  the  ceiling.  Of  these  there  is  one  at  the  old 
Tabley-hall  in  Cheshire,  singularly  rude  and  grotesque,  though 
dated  so  late  as  1619,  containing  a  hunting  piece  and  the  figures 
of  Lucrece  and  Cleopatra.  Another  in  queen  Elizabeth's  gallery 
at  Windsor  castle  is  very  rich,  and  comparatively  pure  and  ele- 
gant in  design.  The  sepulchral  monuments  of  this  age  are  very 
numerous,  but  only  differ  from  those  of  an  earlier  date  in  the 
substitution  of  the  members  of  Grecian  for  those  of  Gothic  ar- 
chitecture, or  rather  in  the  confused  mixture  of  both. 

On  the  whole,  this,  though  a  glorious  period  for  literature,  was 
lost  for  the  fine  arts.  The  incongruous  mixture  of  the  conflict- 
ing principles  of  Grecian  and  Gothic  architecture,  produced 
buildings  more  truly  barbarous,  more  disgusting  to  a  cultivated 
taste,  than  the  rudest  Norman  work.  Together  with  the  archi- 
tectural orders,  our  artists  had  received  models  and  authorities 
for  the  grotesque  style,  which  they  were  but  too  ready  to  follow. 
This  extraordinary  style  of  ornament  had  prevailed  in  ancient 
Rome  early  enough  to  be  reprobated  in  the  work  of  Vitruvius, 
and  lay  unobserved  among  obscure  and  subterraneous  ruins,  till 
the  discovery  of  the  Baths  of  Titus  opened  a  rich  magazine  of 
gay  and  capricious  ornament.  Raflfaelle,  struck  with  these  re- 
mains of  the  antique  art  of  painting,  adopted  the  same  style  of 
ornament  in  the  galleries  of  the  Vatican,  enriching  and  enliven- 
ing it  with  the  stores  of  allegory  and  mythology  furnished  by  his 
poetical  fancy.  The  example  of  such  a  man  could  not  want 
imitator  s ;  it  influenced  the  whole  architecture  of  France, — 
which  very  early  possessed  artists  of  great  merit, — and  appeared 
in  this  country  with  very  inferior  effect.  It  may  well  be  ima- 
gined that  this  style,  naturally  licentious  and  only  rendered 
tolerable  by  grace  of  composition  and  brilliancy  of  execution, 
■would  become  utterly  contemptible  when  presenting  only  coarse- 
ly executed  and  unmeaning  extravagances.  Such  was  the  gene- 
ral character  of  art.  We  may  however  make  discriminations, 
and  admit  comparative  merit.  Wimbledon-house,  seated  on 
the  side  of  a  hill,  was  remarkable  for  a  magnificent  disposition 
of  steps  and  terraces  worthy  an  Italian  villa.  Wollaton-hall  is 
admired  by  Mr.  Price  for  the  grandeur  of  its  masses.  Charlton- 
iiouse  has  a  very  picturesque  arrangement  of  heights  in  the  ele- 
vation ;  Longleat,  on  the  other  hand,  has  much  simplicity  of 
form.  In  its  square  projections  and  three  orders  of  columns,  or 
pilasters,  it  bears  no  remote  resemblance  to  the  ancient  part  of 
the  Louvre  built  about  thirty  years  previously,  though  without 
the  purity  and  delicacy  of  the  details  of  the  architecture  and 
sculpture  which  distinguish  the  French  building. 

EDMUND  AIKIN. 

Liverpool,  February  10,  1818. 


A. 

feUMgOtl,  duke  of,  264.  282.  created 
duke  of  Aujou,  289.  visits  the  queen, 
ib.  His  second  visit,  302.  et  seq.  Death, 
305. 

Anjou,  duke  of,  232.  258.  See  Alen- 
§on. 

Anne  of  Cleves,  25.  27,  28.  69. 
Arragon,  Catherine  of,  1,  2.  9. 
Arundel,  sir  Thomas,  case  of,  443. 
Ascham,  Roger,  extracts  from  his  Latin 

letters,  48.  et  seq.  51,  52.  et  seq. 
Ashley,  Mrs.  101. 
Aston,  sir  Roger,  466. 
Aylmer  or  Elmer,  (bishop,)  on  the  dress 

of  Elizabeth,  51.  286. 

B. 

Babington,  Anthony,  337 — 8. 

Bacon,  sir  Nicholas,  134.  Employed  in 

the  settlement  of  religion,  166.  In 

disgrace,  190  294.  et  seq. 

 ,  Anthony,  297.  428. 

 ,  Francis,  295.  427  to  429.  431  to 

433.    His  letter  to  the  earl  of  Essex, 

449.  Speeches  written  by,  450.  Base 

conduct  of,  497. 
Beddingfield,  sir  H.  88.  90.  91,  92. 
Bertie,  Peregrine,    lord  Willoughby, 

312.  314.  Letter  to,  from  the  queen, 
437. 

Blount,  sir  Charles,  lord  Montioy,  366. 

384.  et  seq.  433.  476.  484.  492,  493. 

502.  506. 
Boleyn,  Thomas,  earl  of  Wilts,  6. 

,  Anne,  1,  2.  Conduct  respecting 

queen  Catherine,  9.  Disgrace,  9,  10. 

Conduct  as  affecting  her  daughter,  11. 

et  seq. 

Bonner,  bishop,  77,  78.  95. 
Bourchier  family,  26. 

-,  Henry,  earl  of  Essex,  4. 
Brandon,  Charles,  duke  of  Suffolk,  5. 

313.  etseq. 

— — —  ,  Catherine,  duchess  dowager 

of  Suffolk,  313. 
Brantome,  M.  de,  description  of  the  court 

of  Elizabeth,  174. 
Browne,  Anthony,  viscount  Montacute, 

149. 


Brown,  Robert,  308. 
Bryan,  lady,  her  letter  respecting  Eliza- 
beth, 12. 

*  C. 

Cabot,  Sebastian,  229. 

Cambridge,  the  queen's  visit  to,  190. 

Cary,  Henry,  lord  Hutisdon,  127.  452. 

 ,  Robert,  415. 

Casimir,  duke,  194.  286. 

Cavendish,  Thomas,  411. 

Cecil,  Mildred,  50.  66. 

 ,  William,  lord  Burleigh,  50.  121. 

Account  of,  122  Employed  in  the  set- 
tlement of  religion,  166.  Takes  pre- 
caution against  the  poisoning  of  the 
queen,  178.  Draws  a  proclamation 
respecting  portraits  of  the  queen,  187. 
Directs  her  reception  at  Cambridge, 
190.  et  seq.  Letters  of,  to  sir  H.  Nor- 
ris,  215.  233-  et  seq.  Attempt  made 
to  ruin  him,  239  to  241 .  His  advice 
to  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  241.  Created 
lord  Burleigh,  254.  Letter  to  the  earl 
of  Shrewsburry ,  270.  Character  com- 
pared with  sir  N.  Bacon's,  294,  295. 
Anecdote  of,  297  Discussions  with 
Whitgifi,  310.  et  seq.  Anger  of  the 
queen  against,  384.  Restored  to  fa- 
vour, 351.  Warning  to  Essex,  460. 
Death  and  character  of,  461  to  464. 
,  sir  Thomas,  365. 

 ,  sir  Robert,  365.  399.  444.  Ap- 
pointed secretary,  447.  459.  480. 

Chaloner,  sir  Thomas,  149.  His  letter 
respecting  the  queenand  lord  R.Dud- 
ley, 150. 

Chancellor,  Richard,  229,  230. 

Charles  IX.  of  France,  a  suitor  to  Eliza- 
beth, 194,  196. 

Cheke,  sir  John,  80.  116. 

Classical  literature,  decline  of,  102. 

Clifford,  George,  earl  of  Cumberland. 
362.  385. 

Cook,  sir  Anthony,  80. 

Courtney,  W.,  marquis  of  Exeter,  4.  22, 
23. 

 ,  Edward,  earl  of  Devon,  69, 

71.  84.  96 
Cox,  bishop,  80  187. 
Cranmer,  archbishop,  37.  11.  25.  29. 

u 


522 


INDEX. 


Cromwe  ll,  Thomas,  earl  of  Essex,  25 
to  27. 

D. 

Daere,  Leonard,  243.  249,  250. 

Daroley,  lord,  199.  215. 

Davison,  secretar  y,  conduct  of,  respect- 
ins  the  queen  of  Scots,  347.  et  seq. 
348  to  351 . 

Dee,  Dr.  270. 

Denmark,  prince  of,  proposed  in  mar- 

riage  to  Elizabeth,  60. 
Desmond,  eayl  of,  315. 
Devereux,  Waller,  earl  of  Essex,  275 

to  279. 

 ,  Robert,  earl  of  Essex,  279. 

Appointed  general  of  horse,  368.  His 
position  at  Court,  374,  et  seq.  Expe- 
dition to  Portugal,  382.  et  seq.  383. 
Duel  with  sir  Charles  Blount,  384. 
Letters  to  Davison,  389.  et  seq.  Mar- 
riage 391.  Campaign  in  France,  396. 
Trait  of,  442,  Connexion  with  An. 
thony  and  Francis  Bacon,  431.  Con- 
duct respecting  Lopez,  434.  View  of 
his  and  the  Cecil  parties,  444.  His 
conduct  at  Cadiz,  446.  et  seq.  Traits 
of,  455.  His  Island  voyage,  456.  His 
quarrel  with  the  queen,  460.  Con- 
duct in  Irish  affairs,  474.  Service  in 
Ireland,  477  to  481.  Return  to  Eng- 
land, 480.  Disgrace,  483  to  488.  Cen- 
sure on,  489.  Dangerous  designs,  491. 
Intrigues  with  the  king  of  Scots,  493. 
Insurrection,  494  to  496.  Trial,  after 
conduct,  and  death,  496  to  500.  Story^ 
respecting  his  ring,  510. 

Discovery,  voyages  of,  412.  et  seq. 

Dorset,  marchioness  dowager,  5. 

Douglas,  iady  Margaret,  14,  15.  31.  See 
Lenox  countess  of. 

Drake,  sir  Francis,  295.  337.  354.  368. 
382,  383.  Death  and  character  of,  440. 

Drama,  progress  of  the,  418. 

Dudley,  John,  duke  of  Northumberland, 
7.  26.  37.  57.  61,  62.  65,  66,  67. 

Dudley,  Ambrose,  earl  of  Warwick, 
186. 

Dudley,  Robert,  earl  of  Leicester,  7.  78. 
96.  Appointed  master  of  the  horse,  and 
favoured  by  Elizabeth,  125.  Knight 
of  the  garter,  !38.  Suspected  of  pro- 
em i'  g  the  death  of  his  wife,  151.  His 
rivalry  with  the  earl  of  Arundel,  156. 
Proposed  as  a  husband  to  the  q.'een 
of  Scots,  189.  Created  earl  of  Leices- 
ter, 196.  His  declarations  to  Melvil, 
199.  Means  taken  by  the  queen  to 
humble  him,  203.  His  conduct  to  the 
duke  of  Norfolk,  303.  Suspected  of 
poisoning  sic  N.  Throgmorton,  260. 
His  connexion  with  lady  Sheffield,  269. 
Entertains  El.zai  elh  at  Kennel  w  orth, 
275.  Letter  t»f  the  queen  respecting 
him,  280  Opposes  t  h<-  French  mar- 
riage, 282.  Marri<  a  the  emintess  of 
Essex,  287.    Imprisoned,  288.  Sus- 


pected of  attempting  the  life  of  Simier 
288.  Instances  of  his  oppressive  con- 
duct, 318,  319.  Book  written  against 
him,  322.  et  seq.  Appointed  com- 
mander in  Holland,  329.  His  letter 
respecting  sir  P.  Sidney,  334.  Re- 
turns from  Holland,  337.  Advises 
the  poisoning  of  the  queen  of  Scots, 
339.  Consequences  of  his  conduct  in 
Holland,  358,  359.  Appointed  com- 
mander in  chief,  368.  Desires  the 
office  of  lieutenant  in  England  and 
Ireland,  370.  His  death  and  charac- 
ter, 371  to  373. 
Dyer,  sir  Edward,  408. 

E. 

Edward  VI.  20.  31.    Letters  to  him 

from  Elizabeth,  54,  55.  66. 
Eric,  king  of  Sweden  offers  marriage  t» 

Elizabeth,  113.  137.     Expected  in 

England,  179. 
Exeter  marchioness,  5.  24.  78. 

F. 

Fence,  schools  of,  regulated,  207. 
Ferrers,  George,  master  of  the  king's 

pastimes,  63.  et  seq. 
Fletcher,  bishop,  453. 
Fitzalan,  Henry,  earl  of  Arundel,  37, 

38.  57,  58.  67.    Entertains  Elizabeth 

at  Nonsuch,  145.    A  suitor  to  her, 

155.    In  disgrace,  203. 
Fitzgerald,  family  of,  17.  et  seq. 
 ,  Gerald,  adventures  of,  17.  et 

seq. 

Fortescue,  sir  John,  381. 

G. 

Gardiner,  bishop,  25.  27.  77.  et  seq. 

Brings  in  a  bill  against  Elizabeth,  fi7. 

92.  95.    Conduct  towards  Elizabeth 

98,  99.    Death,  102. 
Gascoigne,  George,  408. 
Gresham,  sir  Thomas,  253. 
Grenville,  sir  Richard,  410. 
Greville,  Fulk,  301.  et  seq.  432. 
Grey,  Arthur,  lord,  315. 

 ,  lady  Catherine,  65.  79.  181. 

 ,  Henry,  marquis  of  Dorset,  4.  61 

 ,  lady  Jane,  41.  50,  51.  65.  67.  83. 

■  ,  lord  Leonard,  29. 

 ,  lady  Mary,  208. 

Grindal,  archbishop,  169.  309. 

H. 

Hales,  sir  James,  79. 
 ,  John, 189. 

Hall,  reverend  Joseph,  and  his  satires 
468,  469.  Praise  of  Elizabeth,  518. 

Harrington,  sir  John,  the  elder,  47.  His 
verses  on  the  death  of  Admiral  Sey- 
mour, ib. — To  bishop  Gardiner,  93. 
Gratitude  of  Elizabeth  towards,  101. 


INDEX. 


Harrington,  sir  John,  the  younger,  442. 

470.  Letter  to  475.  Letters  of,  482. 
Hustings,  Henry,  earl,  of  Huntingdon, 

452. 

Hatton,  sir  Christopher,  257.  269.  357. 
399. 

Henry  VIII.  1.  7,  8.  IS,  14.  25  to  32. 

36. 

Herbert)  William,  earl  of  Pembroke, 
139. 

Holies,  sir  William,  416. 

Hoisfeiu,  duke  of,  suitor  to  Elizabeth, 

137,  138. 
Howard,  Catherine,  28,  29. 
 ,  Henry,  earl  of  Surry,  26.  33, 

34,  35.  et  seq. 
Howard,  lord  Henry,  319. 

,  lady  Mary,  5. 
 ,  Philip,  ea'rl  of  Arundel,  262. 

3*7  376. 

Howard,  Thomas,  third  duke  of  Nor- 
folk, 5.  16.  27.  33.  36.  75.  76. 

,  ,  fourth  duke  ofNorfolk, 

76.  126.  How  regarded  by  the  queen, 
205.  et  seq.  Conduct  towards  the 
queen  of  Scots.  236  to  239.  Towards 
Cecil,  239  to  240.  His  intrigues,  239 
to  241.  Renewal  of  them,  259.  Trial, 
death  and  issue,  260  to  262. 

Howard,  lord  Thomas,  7.  14.  410.  445. 

 ,  William,  lord  Effingham,  377. 

 ,  Charles,  lord  Effingham, 256. 

367.  445. 

Howard,  lord  William,  262.  319. 

Humphrey's,  Dr.  Lawrence,  213. 

I. 

Impresses,  154. 

Ivan  Basilowitz,  Czar,  229,  230. 
J. 

James  VI.  of  Scotland,  211.  217.  et  seq. 
Conduct  by  which  he  offends  Eliza- 
beth, 464.  et  seq.  Her  correspond- 
ence with  him,  465.  Sermon  respect- 
ing him,  467. 

Jewel,  bishop,  147.  171. 

K. 

Knolles,  sir  Francis,  126.  132.  310. 
L. 

Lee,  sir  Henry,  257.  385. 

Leicester,  countess  of,  queen's  behaviour 

towards,  459. 
Lenox,  countess  of,  200,  215.  272. 
Lilly,  John,  300.  et  seq. 

M. 

Manners,  Henry,  earl  of  Rutland,  138. 
Markham,  Gervassc,  417. 

 ,  Isabella,  101. 

Mary,  queen  of  England,  15.  Perse- 


cuted for  religion,  58.  et  seq.  Mounts 
the  throne,  68.  Letter  from  her  to 
Elizabeth,  72.  Marriage  of,  94.  Send* 
an  embassy  to  the  pope,  ib.  Her  in  - 
ception of  Elizabeth  99.  Letter  oi 
Elizabeth  to,  111.  Visits  Elizabeth 
at  Hatfield,  112.  Receives  her  ai 
Richmond,  113.  Establishes  an  ec- 
clesiastical commission,  115.  Her  nv  • 
lancholy  and  death,  118. 

Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  30,  31.  Becomes 
a  widow,  173.  Quarrels  with  Eliza- 
beth, 174.  Returns  to  Scotland,  ib. 
Falls  in  love  with  Darnley,  200.  Sus- 
pected of  his  death,  215.  Letter  to, 
from  Elizabeth,  216.  Married  to  Both- 
well,  ib.  et  seq.  Defeated  and  impri- 
soned, 217.  Released,  225.  Takes 
refuge  in  England, ib.  et  seq.  Writes 
to  Elizabetlij  226.  Submits  to  her 
judgment  228.  Ret'-acts,  ib.  Is  com- 
mitted to  Bolton-castle,  229.  Con- 
sents to  send  commissioners  to  York, 
230.  Signs  the  association,  324  Con- 
duct of,  ib.  et  seq.  Concern  in  Bab- 
bington's  plot,  338.  Consultations  re- 
specting, 339.  Seizure  of  her  papers, 
ib.  Her  removal  to  Fotheringay,  ib. 
Trial,  340.  et  seq.  Sentence,  342. 
Death,  347.  Remarks  on  her  charac- 
ter, 351.  etseq. 

Medici,  Catherine,  de,  231,  232.  et  seq. 
250. 

Melvil,  sir  James,  193.  Sent  to  an- 
nounce the  birth  of  James  of  Scotland, 
210. 

Mildmay,  sir  Walter,  380. 

Mirror  for  Magistrates,  64.  103.  et  seq. 

Morice,  James,  424. 

Murray,  earl  of,  regent  of  Scotland, 

217/225.  235.  et  seq.  236,  237.  His 

assassination,  250. 

N. 

Newspapers,  introduction  of,  371. 
Nevil,  Charles,  earl  of  Westmoreland, 

245  to  247. 
Nobility,  great  power  of^6. 
Norfolk,  duchess  dowagerof,  5. 
Norris,  Henry,  9. 

 ,  sir  John,  382.  395.  434.  458. 

Norton,  family  of,  247. 
Nerwich,   queen's    entertainment  at, 
282,  283. 

O. 

Oxford,  queen's  visit  to,  21 3 
P. 

Paget,  lord,  98,  116. 

Parker,  archbishop.  8.  167,  168.  201 . 

Parr,  Catherine,  31 ,  32.  40. 

 ,  marquis  of  Northampton,  138 

Parry,  Dr.,  124,  125. 
 ,  sir  Thomas,  121, 122. 


524 


INDEX. 


Paulet,  sir  Amias,  letter  of  the  queen 
to,  340. 

Paulet,  marquis  of  Winchester,  141. 
Percy,  Henry,  earl  of  Northumberland, 
11.  62. 

Percy,  Henry,  earl  of  Northumberland, 
245  to  247. 

Percy,  Thomas,  earl  of  Northumber- 
land, 319.  328. 

Percy,  Henry,  earl  of  Northumberland, 
365. 

Pt -rrot,  sir  John,  316.  401. 

Philip  II.  94.  96.  Conduct  towards  Eli- 
zabeth, 96,  97,  98.  100,  101.  Sends 
the  duchess,  of  Parma  and  Loraine  to 
her,  112.  Offers  her  his  hand,  135. 
Becomes  her  enemy,  175.  132.  234. 
434. 

Pickering,  sir  William,  a  suitor  of  the 
queen, 155. 

Pilkington,  bishop  of  Durham,  curious 
sermon  by,  147. 

Pole,  Arthur  and  Edmund,  plot  of,  183. 

 ,  Geffrey,  21.  78. 

— — ,  Henry,  viscount  Montacute,  23. 
,  Margaret,  countess  of  Salisbury, 
23.  24.27. 

Pole.  R-ginald,  21.  92.  103.  124. 

Pope,  sir  Thomas,  70.  100,  101.  Men- 
tion  of  Elizabeth,  102.  Gives  enter- 
tainments to  her,  110,  1 12.  Writes  to 
the  queen  respecting  her,  114. 

Puttenham's  Art  of  Poesy,  403. 

R. 

Raleigh,  sir  Walter,  316.  318.  367.  384. 
414.  438.445.  457. 

Ratcliffe,  Thomas,  earl  ot  Sussex,  205. 
Letters  to  the  queen,  218,  219.  To 
C^cil,  240.  Conduct  as  president  of 
the  North,  248.  Campaign  in  Scot- 
land, 250.  Behaviour  respecting  Lei- 
cester, 288.  Favours  the  French 
match,  289,  290.    Death  of,  314. 

Ratcliffe,  Egremont,  248.  314.  et  seq. 

Royal  Progresses,  144. 

Royal  succession,  vague  ideas  on,  13, 14. 

Rudd,  bishej^  sermon  of,  before  the 
queen,  442r 

S. 

Sackville,  sir  Richard,  126.  223. 

— —  ,  Thomas,  lord  Buckhurst,  103. 

2^3.  358,  359. 

Sampson,  Dr.  Thomas,  offends  the 
queen,  176. 

Savoy,  duke  of,  offered  to  Elizabeth  in 
marriage,  89,  111. 

Seymour,  Edward,  duke  of  Somerset, 
20.  33.  37  to  39. 

Seymour,  Edward,  second  earl  of  Herts : 
how  treated  for  his  marriage  with  lady 
Catherine  Grey,  182.  et  seq.  Esta- 
blishes the  legitimacy  of  his  sons,  190. 
398.441. 


Seymour,  Jane,  9.  20. 

— — — — ,  sir  Thomas,  lord  admiral, 

20.  34  to  40.  Conduct  to  Elizabeth, 

40  to  44. 
Shakespeare,  William,  420. 
Sidney,  sir  Henry,  184.    Letter  of  the 

queen  to,  209.    Death  and  character, 

of,  335. 

Sidney,  sir  Philip,  266.  282.  His  oppo- 
sition to  the  French  match  and  letter 
to  the  queen,  290.  et  seq.  Appear- 
ance at  a  triumph,  298.  301.  Defence 
of  Leicester,  323.  Death  and  charac- 
ter, 330.  et  seq. 

Sidney,  sir  Robert,  letter  of,  490. 

Simier,  Monsieur,  287,  288. 

Sixtus  V.  pope.  Extraordinary  speeches 
of,  343. 

Smith,  sir  Thomas,  26.3.  273.  285. 
Somerset,  H.  earl  of  Worcester,  7. 
 ,  duchess  dowager  of,  48  62. 

78.  355. 
Spenser,  Edmund,  317.  468. 
Stanley,  Edward,  earl  of  Derby,  6. 

■  ,  Ferdinando,  earl  of  Derby,  435. 

Stubbs,  Mr.  293.  et  seq. 

Suffolk,  Francis,  duchess  dowager  of, 

146.  313. 

Sully,  duke  of,  conference  with  Eliza- 
beth, 500. 

T. 

Talbot,  Gilbert,  lord,  letters  of,  268. 

Throgmorton,  sir  John,  261. 

 ,  Francis,  320. 

 ,  sir  Nicholas,  85,  86.  96. 

201.  239.  320. 

Tontall,  bishop,  77. 

Topcliffe,  Richard,  283.  et  seq. 

Torture  defended,  320.  et  seq. 

Tyrwhitt,  sir  Robert,  his  letters  to  the 
Protector  respecting  Eiizabeth  and 
admiral  Seymour,  44.  et  seq.  45,  46. 

V. 

Vaughan,  bishop,  anecdotes  of,  453. 
Vere,  Edward,  seventeenth  earl  of  Ox- 
ford, 254.  365. 
Vere,  sir  Francis,  446. 

W. 

Walsingham,  sir  Francis,  263,  264.  302. 
Sent  into  Scotland,  312.  Conduct  re- 
specting queen  of  Scots,  351.  Letter 
of,  to  M.  Critoy,  S78.  Death  and  cha- 
racter, 388. 

Whitgift,  archbishop,  281,  309.  note,  et 
seq. 

Williams,  lord,  88.  98,  99. 
Willoughby,  sir  Hugh,  229. 
Wriothesley,  earl  of  Southampton,  456. 

459.  493.  496,  497.  500. 
Wyat,  sir  Thomas,  70.  72.  82.  85. 


5*  A* 


